Scorch
by Merr2
Summary: ROMY. She can't stop it and maybe she doesn't want to. She's burning from the inside out, and it hurts so good.
1. Burn This City

Burn This City

_Stay up all night and sleep all day, we were smart kids with too much to say. And so, so sure that they were missing out, they're the ones who were missing out. We were elemental, talked down to bare essentials. Who knew we'd get so far? Cause our days were numbered by nights, on too many rooftops. They said we'd burn so bright, we Burn This City and go. ~Burn This City-Cartel._

**New York, 2034.**

He feels heat on his face. He hears the birds chirping and the sounds of his family getting ready around him. Ororo is already out of bed, but that doesn't surprise him. In all the years he's known her, that woman has never slept in past six.

Remy turns on his side and scoots deeper into the Egyptian Silk sheets. It really is time to get up; the party is today and the house needs cleaning**. **There is food to be prepared, kids have to dress**—**but still he does not move. He'd like to chalk his delay up to the fact that it's a Saturday morning; what middle-aged man wouldn't want to sleep in? Especially after last night: watching all three of his sons' football games could be pretty exhausting, and it didn't make it any easier that his back is giving him trouble again. It's all a lie though, just like his entire life is a lie. The tired he feels is in a whole different category. This tired plagues his bones and makes him sore. This tired fills his lungs**; **it prevents him from ever really taking a deep breath.

Remy has had this tired for so long, he sometimes forgets what it was like to be unburdened. Back in those days, he was young, so very young. He laughed freely, he ran fast, he jumped high, he was weightless, he was carefree. His only worries had been booze, women, and…well, that was it. That was as far as his tiny brain could stretch. Young Remy never thought about what might happen in the future. Young Remy just assumed everything would work itself out in the end. As a thief, he'd been taught to lay back, to take life as it came at you. You didn't try to predict the outcome of anything, you didn't try to change it once it did happen. Hell, even gambling wasn't a gamble in his world. He knew his deck like he knew how to breathe: he knew the decks of those around him better than they could ever hope to. And so he went through life blindly, without drive. He was oblivious to things he could have made better, oblivious of the people he hurt. Young Remy figured his sins would never catch up to him: he was too fast. He was invincible. But of all his foolish mistakes, there is one he can't let go of, even now.

Knowing he took Rogue's love for granted will haunt him for the rest of his life, and maybe even beyond.

He gets up then. He rips the covers off and rushes to the bathroom. Filling the sink with freezing cold water, he shoves his head in it. This is a diversion, a scapegoat, a small punishment for letting his mind wander in dark crevasses where it shouldn't go. If he let the memories slide in, if he let himself think of her…

He'll drown, he knows he will.

_Play it again, (our games of love and lust.)There's no such thing (no there's never too much). And we were so, so sure, no we never had a doubt. We're counting down the days to getting out. And we were elemental, talked down to bare essentials. Who knew we'd get so far? Cause our days were numbered by nights, on too many rooftops. They said we'd burn so bright, Burn This City and go. ~Burn This City-Cartel._

**Present Day New York.**

He'll drown, he knows he will.

"Uh, _chére_?" Gambit peeks over the ledge, and instantly regrets it. "Did I tell y' I can't swim?" His face is so pale she almost feels sorry for him.

"You've told me about twenty times, swamp rat. An' guess how many times Ah've told ya Ah'm almost done?"

He gulps, trying to make the least amount of movement possible. "Twenty?"

"Bingo!" The belle rolls her emerald eyes and goes back to her canvas. "Now stop botherin' me so Ah can finish this."

The Cajun inhales shakily and does as he's told. When Rogue told him she wanted to paint him, he'd been more than willing. He'd even given her a few ideas: she could paint him on his bed, naked. Or by the fireplace, naked. Or in _her _bed, naked. Or in the nice hot bathtub, naked. Even though she dismissed all his great ideas, he was still pretty excited. Not only had he never seen Rogue in action, but from what he heard, she was a different woman when she was painting. And it was true, she smiled more, she snapped at him less, she even flirted a bit more… Only Remy couldn't enjoy her good mood to the fullest, due to his current predicament. He'd do anything for his _chère_, he just didn't expect that to include climbing up an icy staircase to sit on an even icier diving board for two whole hours in the middle of winter.

"I t'ink y' picked dis spot just to torture me." He sniffles, and proceeds to sneeze.

Rogue bites her lip to keep from smiling and clears her throat. "Why would ya think that? It's not like you've ever given me any reason to get back at ya**—"**

"What was dat?"

"Ah said come down here**. **Ah'm done."

…

_They were getting further along in their ritual. He'd scrubbed her slightly-freckled face, her squat back, her tiny feet, all at a painfully slow pace. He was a thorough man, he never missed a spot. It's on to her undeveloped chest. He lathers each delicate nipple with soap, and gently rinses them. The sweat is now forming on his brow, because they're getting closer to his favorite part. Her bellybutton is next, she hears Daddy's heart go 'thump, thump' when he reaches her chubby thighs._

_"Stand up, Marie. Daddy's gotta clean everythin'."_

_She doesn't move, she can't move. So daddy does it for her, and lifts her by the arms. "Don't ya wanna be clean? Good little Christian girls are clean, Marie. God won't let ya into Heaven if there's dirt down there, will he?"_

…

"_Chére_, it's, it's _tres magnifique_!" He holds her painting in one hand and a cup of hot cocoa in the other.

"Ya sure it's not cause _yoah _the subject?"

Remy smirks impishly at her raised eyebrow and thrust hip. "Okay, so maybe my pretty face made y' job much easier-"

She snorts and takes a sip from her own steaming mug.

"-_mais _seriously, y' real good."

His big grin and husky voice have the same effect on her that they always do, and she focuses on her drink. "Well Ah better get this upstairs, don't want anythin' happenin' to yoah 'pretty face'." She moves to leave but his arm goes around her shoulder.

"I'll go with y'**. **Need to get some dry clothes anyway."

Remy looks down at Rogue while they walk. She clutches the painting to her chest, and to his distress, she looks absolutely uncomfortable. This comes as no shock to him**. **In fact, he's surprised she's let his arm stay around her for this long. It's one of the many things he's learned to accept about Rogue: no touch. No kissing, no holding hands without a barrier, no snuggling**. **She would even snap at him for trying to hold her once in a while. To an outsider, he appears to be a saint. A sexually-active man such as himself with an inexperienced, untouchable girl like Rogue? He must have patience galore! But he and Rogue know better**. **They know he's weak, that he's a slave to the flesh.

Maybe what's more horrible than him cheating on her is that she knows about it; she condones it.

"Wait for me?" he asks as they reach his door, and she nods slowly, following him in.

The Cajun strips quickly, unashamed by his nakedness. He has no problem changing in the middle of the room, and Rogue tries to pretend she doesn't either. She runs her fingers along the pictures he keeps on the television. Most of them are of her or them together. They look so grins are so big. Had they ever been this happy in the real world? The world where Remy drank too much, partied too hard, and broke her heart for every night he didn't come home. 'Cause she knows where he is. She can imagine the girl he's with.

But it's her own fault**. **She brings it on herself. It doesn't have to be this way: Remy had offered to risk his life so many, many times**. **_**"**__I can t'ink of so many ways around y' skin, chère. Just lemme try."_' Rogue dreads the day when she's weak enough to give in.

The belle dares to look behind her, and so many emotions slam into her at once**, **she thinks she might fall over. Remy stands completely naked in front of his dresser, digging for clothes in the seemingly endless drawer. Rogue hasn't seen very many naked men in her life, so she has nothing to compare with, but she doesn't need to. Anyone could see that Remy LeBeau is a work of art, a masterpiece of a man. His broad shoulders, his muscled legs and arms, that hard, rippling stomach, the robust manhood hanging proudly between his legs… Rogue whips back around, clamping her eyes, and legs, shut. Gambit was made for pleasure. To be touched, kissed, physically loved. She can't do these things for him and probably won't ever be able to.

Some days she would wake up saying, "Fuck it." On those days, she thinks of throwing caution to the wind and letting Remy ravish her like he so badly wants to. But then he would smile, that lopsided, adorable smile. Or he would make some silly joke, making her laugh. In those moments, Rogue knows if anything ever happened to that man, she would never laugh again. After that, she would hide away and avoid him for days so she could ease the fire raging within her—like she's about to do now.

"Remy?" Her voice wavers; he'll know something's up. He has always been able to read her so easily.

"_Oui_?" He pulls his jeans over his boxers, his shirt over his head, and sure enough there's concern on his face.

"Ah'm gonna go, 'kay? Ah've got some errands to run—"

"I'll go with y'."

"No!" Rogue ducks her head and wishes she could slow the beating of her heart. "Ya don't have to, really. Ah'm just gonna go by myself**—"**

"Why would y' do a t'ing like dat," he murmurs. He keeps a steadfast grip on her wrist.

Rogue won't face him, she keeps her body turned towards the door, to sweet freedom. "Please, Remy."

"Tell me why." He's getting impatient now. He holds the other wrist, too. He's known her long enough to sense when one of her 'spells' is coming. She won't talk to him, look at him, won't even acknowledge his presence in a room. He can't understand why she would decide to do this now**. **Things were so good lately… Or maybe he's mistaken.

"Because Ah**—" **She stares at the window behind him, trying to ground herself. She bites her lip hard and he feels her tremble.

Remy instantly softens, and holds her even though he knows she doesn't want that. "Because why, p'tite? Y' know y' can tell me anyt'ing."

Rogue shudders, but she looks him in the eye. "Because Ah _want _it, Remy."

At first he doesn't comprehend, but upon closer inspection, he notices her heavy breathing, her flushed cheeks, her darkened eyes…It all makes sense to him now. "Oh." And then: "Oh, _chère_." He gathers the belle even tighter in his embrace, letting her feel how much he wants her, too. "I'm more den willin' to give it, y' know dat," he whispers in her hair. The sizzling heat between them is abundant.

"Ah know**." **She escapes from his arms somehow**. "**And that's why Ah can't take it."

She's gone before he can stop her, before he can beg her to let him _show _his love.

…

Rogue chokes on a sob and scrubs her hands even harder. No matter how fast she rubs her fingers together, no matter how much soap she uses, she can still feel it on her hands, she can still smell what she's done.

Why she feels guilty after she touches herself, the belle doesn't know. She feels so good during, when some of that tension is released, when she loses herself in orgasm. But when she falls, when the sensation fades and she's aware again, she feels dirty. Is it because she imagines the fingers caressing her clit are Remy's? Is it because as she reaches her climax, it's his name she sighs? It isn't right, she knows this. They're stolen bits, they're an act. Remy has never touched her like that, and maybe he never will. Like a child, she's playing pretend, and it's time to grow up. She's twenty-two years old: she learned long ago that life isn't a fairy tale. She isn't a princess; she'll never have a prince on a white horse to come and rescue her.

Or maybe it isn't that at all. Could it be something so deep and scarring she doesn't let herself think about it? Perhaps she feels disgusting because everywhere her fingertips roam, they awaken where her father's had been, years and years ago.

Touch is bad, it doesn't matter whether it's somebody else's or her own. Touch equals hurt**. **It's the equation she's lived her life by and always will.

…

He barely has enough time to slip on his uniform and run downstairs before Scott begins the briefing. His eyes instantly find Rogue as he enters the War Room**. **It's an old habit. She pretends not to notice. She hasn't saved him a spot.

The Cajun sits next to Warren instead, and annoyance and hurt make his stomach ache. What has he done wrong? Did he push her too hard? Or did he not push enough? One could never tell with Rogue: her moods are like the tide, always changing.

His gaze burns into her**. **He knows she has to feel it. But she knows how to keep her composure, and she knows how to stay cool. Her poker face rivals even his own.

"She's managed to escape again." Scott's voice is thin, like he's speaking through an old radio, and all the sound can't come through. "The Professor has managed to locate her by using Cerebro, she's somewhere in Central Park. Logan has already begun watch**. **She hasn't moved yet."

Remy hadn't been paying attention before, but he notices Scott's strange demeanor now. He's pale and haggard, like the entirety of mankind is pressing down on him.

"Oh, Scott." Rogue's hand goes to his shoulder, and Cyclops squeezes her back, attempting a smile. "We'll bring her back, shuga. We always do."

"I-I know, Rogue." He forces himself to straighten, to look the part of the fearless leader. "You've been briefed**. **Head to the Blackbird."

Remy understands Scott needs comfort, but why does his _chère _have to be the one to do it? Isn't Storm or Betsy or Kitty or any of the other team members enough support? He loves Jean just as much as the next person: she is kind, patient, the kind of girl you'd go to when you're in trouble, because she would do everything she could to help you.

It's her husband the Cajun doesn't like. One-Eye has always shown a soft-spot for Rogue. He's always shown her kindness that he rarely shows anybody else. It's past the point of being friendly. Gambit is far from clueless**. **Scott looks at Rogue the same way he does his wife. He can tell there is some kind of history between the two, but Rogue will never give him a straight answer.

Remy rises with the rest of the group. He can't stop watching her. "_Chère_?"

She ignores him and continues talking to Piotr, one of her old flames. He speeds up, expertly bypassing people in the cramped hangar and trying to catch her before she reaches the dock, but he's stopped by a cool hand on his shoulder.

"Give her time**,** my friend." Ororo's blue eyes twinkle. He feels the calm radiating off of her. "Our southern belle needs her space. You should know this more than anyone."

"Trust me, Stormy. I know _very _well."

And he looks so pitiful, she doesn't even threaten him for calling her that obnoxious name.

…

Central Park looks strange from above, like an oasis of green in a mostly concrete world.

Cyclops grips the controls tightly and guides the plane down to ground safely. After unbuckling his harness, he turns to them all and tries not to crumble right there. "Jean isn't in control right now. I want you to remember that. That…thing in her body won't hesitate to use her full strength and slay us all." He finds Rogue's eyes, and stays there a moment before continuing. "Do what you must."

He's given them permission. Kill his wife if it means you survive.

None of them receive any comfort from this.

"Storm?"

The goddess nods**. **Her blue orbs disappear and white takes its place. She motions for Archangel and Cannonball to follow her, and they swoop off into the night sky.

"We'll do everything we can**. **We love her, too." With that, Beast pummels through the door, Psylocke, Colossus, and Shadowcat right behind him.

"Guess we should go," Gambit murmurs, waiting for Rogue to follow he and Iceman.

"You two go ahead**.** I just need a few minutes with Rogue, alone."

"Coolio. Let's go**—"**

"Anyt'ing y' say to her, y' say to me, too." Remy's orbs glow dangerously**.**

Veins on Cyclops' forehead throb.

"Remy." Rogue sounds hard, impatient. "Go. Ya bein' ridiculous."

He manages to tear his glare away from Scott. "_Chère_, I—"

"This isn't about us right now!" The belle shakes her head. "Believe it or not, there are more important things than Remy LeBeau on this Earth."

This hurts him**. **They can all see the way his hands ball into fists, the way his throat tightens.

"Come on, man." Iceman pats him on the back.

"Don' touch me." Gambit shrugs off his hand and throws one last hateful sneer in Cyclops' direction before leaving the two alone.

Scott turns to her, ashamed. "I can't believe I'm even asking this from you—"

"S'okay, Scott." She smiles, knowing he would do the same for her. It's hard though, to see the pain on Remy's face when she sent him away. She didn't want to snap at him, but sometimes that boy is too stubborn for his own good.

He runs a hand through his hair. It's hard to guess what he's thinking with that damned visor on his face. "I had a dream last night, about Jean…and you."

"Oh? Sounds interestin'."

He manages to blush despite the situation.

"Um, well. It starts out with Jean on fire. She's crazy, screaming and trying to kill us all."

"Where do Ah come in?" The sounds of battle reach her ears. She itches to get out there.

"You touch her."

Rogue goes pale. He couldn't be asking what she thinks**—** "How does it end?" She attempts to swallow all her fear. It's impossible**. **There's too much of it.

Scott takes her gloved hand in his. "The fire disappears. Jean is smiling again."

The rest of the ground team notices Gambit's anger as soon as he comes outside. How couldn't they?

"Is everything alright?" Piotr speaks for them all.

He whips a fresh deck of cards from his trench pocket and smirks at the Russian. "Did we come here to chat? Or did we come to get Jeannie back?"

"For once,"—Wolverine appears from the trees—"I agree with you, Gumbo."

"Wolvie!" Kitty grins that infectious grin of hers, and the Canadian does his best to return the favor.

"Hey there, half-pint." He enters the circle and sighs. "She knew I was here from the moment I was within a mile of the park. Don't know why she hasn't welcomed us**—"**

"I think you spoke to soon, love." Betsy moves her graceful body into a crouching position, violet weapons appearing in her hands.

Instantly alert, the team turns to see Phoenix gliding through the night**. **The air team is nowhere in sight.

"Shadowcat, phase through the brush and find those three!" Scott jogs to the group, a pale Rogue at his side.

"Y' okay, _chère_?"

She doesn't answer. He hadn't really expected her to.

"Aye, aye captain!" Kitty salutes Cyclops and runs off.

"Alright, team, we've trained enough, we can do this." Is he trying to convince them, or himself?

Before they can launch, Phoenix speaks. "**I do not wish to waste precious time destroying you mortals.**" The voice is Jean's, the body is Jean's**, **but those glowing yellow eyes and fire-engulfed body make it hard to believe. Power rolls off her in waves, her voice is magnified, and Gambit resists the urge to cover his ears.

"**But make no mistake, I will do whatever it takes to keep this body as my own. I will not give ending your meaningless lives a second thought**."

"Now," Cyclops murmurs. He can't look away from his wife. If that's even his wife up there.

The X-men need no more encouragement, and Colossus begins launching trees at the being. She avoids them easily, maneuvering her lithe body this way and that.

Unspeakable rage makes the fire around her increase. "**Foolish mortals. You have been warned**." And then she's sweeping towards them, the pits of Hell glow in her golden orbs.

Rogue feels the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her mouth goes dry and she slips off her gloves.

"Remember, Rogue," Scott whispers, glancing down at her bare hands. "Use your absorption powers as a last resort only! I don't want you getting hurt." He releases his optic beams, and Phoenix is thrown back.

Iceman uses this to his advantage and propels ice-bullets at her face, while Beast uses boulders to knock her down even further.

Phoenix unleashes Jean's telepathy, and the X-men are forced to their knees.

"_Chère_?" Remy cries out, unable to move his neck to find the woman he loves. He wants her by his side. He wants to know she's okay—

A clap of thunder sounds nearby, and lightning strikes Phoenix square in the back. She screams in outrage as she slams into the ground**.** Kitty and the air team come into sight.

"Good work, Storm!" Scott turns to the fallen woman. How he loves her…and how he hates her, for not being the one he gave his heart to.

He moves in towards the crater, feeling Rogue's small hand in his.

"Stop!" Betsy cries, sensing the spike of power. But it's too late, Phoenix has arisen.

"_Mon dieu_."Gambit gasps. For a moment, seeing Jean lift all trees, rocks, benches, and anything else, shocks him into silence. But he realizes the wave is coming for them next, and he finds Rogue through the confusion and screams for her to run, but she's going the opposite way, _towards _the danger…

"_Chère_!" But his voice is swallowed up by the wave and somebody is yanking him to safety, that isn't want he wants**—**

The belle looks around from the boulder Scott pushed her behind, seeing Scott and the others being flung every which way into the debris, hearing Remy cry her name— This looks like a last resort situation if she's ever seen one, and she runs towards Phoenix, seeing her friend deep down within.

"Ah know ya in there, Jean!" She sidesteps rocks, flips over branches, and rolls to the ground to avoid being smashed by a car. "An' Ah'm gonna help get ya out!"

The fire licks at her face. It feels as if her very flesh is being ripped away from her bones. Her fingers rest on Jean's wrist, and all other sound is drowned out by their twin screams of anguish.

**Fall 2004.**

She's seventeen, and she's cutting for the first time. It's raining outside**. **It's been going and going for days**. **It's grey. The sky looks like one big mush, and it only adds to her sour mood**. **It brings how sad she really is to the surface.

The razor leaves a scarlet ribbon across her delicate wrist. It's been exactly one year since she kissed Cody for the last time. It's been one year since she ran away from home. It's been one year since she's seen Irene, the only mother she ever had.

Her blood spills over, bubbling up to say 'Hello.' The rush is amazing, the endorphins being released make her giddy. And so she makes another. And another, and another, and another until both of her arms are a bloody mess. But still she hasn't reached the ultimate high. She's riding close, but the tears continue to fall, and she brings the razor to her thighs.

Eventually, she's lost so much blood that the ache in her chest subsides and the only thing she feels is the dull sting of her wounds.

In the tiny, murky place that comes before unconsciousness, she thinks back to that night when she lost everything and took a boy's life. Her childhood friend's life. She never noticed the eerie similarity before now: She ki_ss_ed Cody, she ki_ll_ed Cody. The two are closely linked in her realm

**Present Day.**

"What in God's name were you thinking?" Betsy shouts once Hank secures both Rogue and Jean. "Jean is the world's most powerful telepath**, **and _she _couldn't even handle Phoenix! What made you come up with the ridiculous idea that Rogue could?"

Scott hides his face. It's all his fault. Rogue is hurt because of his selfishness… He can't do it. He can't watch her die—

"Maybe you could, like, explain what happened, Scott," Kitty offers, not liking confrontation.

"Dere's nothin' to explain." They all turn to Remy, who has sat silently rubbing circles into Rogue's hand for the past four hours. "He fucked up, an' _ma chére _is payin' for it." His jaw clenches and unclenches.

"My students, please!" Xavier receives the silence he so greatly needs and shakes his head. "If we are going to pull through this as a team, we must work together. Pointing blame at one another isn't going to make our girls wake up any faster."

"Chuck," Logan pleads, "are you sure there's no way you could wake them up?"

Beast answers for the Professor as he wipes his glasses across his lab coat. "Completely out of the question, my friend. Forcing them out of their slumber would bring about very grave consequences indeed."

"What y' mean?" Remy's face is pale and he's beginning to lose his cool. "Why can't he go in deir heads and make everyt'ing better?"

Betsy rolls her eyes. "Bloody hell. Non-telepaths are so dreadful to speak with…What he means, love, is Rogue and Jean's minds need time to recover. Waking them up now would hinder that healing process, and the damage it would cause would far outweigh the trouble they're in now." Her face softens slightly. "I can't say I know how you blokes feel,"—she looks to both Scott and Remy—"but I know if anything like this happened to Warren, I'd be singing the same tune you two are."

Charles smiles, silently thanking their purple-haired companion. "She's absolutely right, you know. If there was any faster way…but there isn't. Will you trust me on this, Remy?"

The Cajun swallows and nods stiffly. "I'm not leavin' her though."

"Of course not! I'm sure Hank would be happy to set up a bed next to our Southern friend."

"Of course." The blue doctor smiles encouragingly. "Should I make one up for you as well, Scott?"

The man in question stares blankly at the shiny tile floor. He tried to keep his eyes on Jean, but the sight of Remy touching Rogue so openly is hard to ignore. He is very concerned for the red-head of course—he _does _love his wife…Jean is perfect in every way. Any man would want her.

But he'd much rather have the diamond in the rough that Remy is so fortunate to possess: Rogue. She isn't perfect. She doesn't try to be. And maybe that's why he needs her so much.

_Pack our bags and get away - they're catching on to us. So pack our bags and get away - they're catching on to us. Pack our bags and get away - they're catching on to us. Pack our bags and get away - they're catching on to us. Cause our days were numbered by nights, on too many rooftops. They said we'd burn so bright, we Burn This City and go. ~Burn This City- Cartel._

**September 02, 2010: **I must fall to my knees and praise the Great **aiRo25**. She corrected all of the spelling, grammar, and other mistakes this chapter was riddled with. She even changed comas to semi-colons, or colons- basically the stuff I am completely lost with. I hope some of the classes I'm taking will help me with some of this stuff...O.o

The only other changes I made included changing the scene dividers, and replacing the first italic memory and removing the second one. Nothing that directly affects the story has been changed.


	2. Let The Flames Begin

Let The Flames Begin

_What a shame we all became such fragile, broken things, a memory remains-just a tiny spark. I give it all my oxygen, so Let The Flames Begin, so Let The Flames Begin. Oh glory, oh glory! This is how we'll dance when, when they try to take us down, this is what we'll be oh glory. Somewhere weakness is our strength, and I'll die searching for it, I can't let myself regret such selfishness. ~Let The Flames Begin-Paramore._

**New Orleans, Louisiana. 1990.**

Some days it doesn't matter how charming he is or how skilled he's become at pick-pocketing. Some days there aren't enough tourists or kind souls about.

Some nights he goes to sleep hungry. The glorious aromas wafting from homes and restaurants make his gut clench and the boy curls into a tiny ball, weeping bitterly. It's stupid, he's stupid. He's been on the streets long enough to know that crying gets you no where. It doesn't make the other homeless people sympathize with you; it doesn't make your Mom and Dad want you back. He should be figuring out some way to scrounge up food. He should figure out a way to keep warm.

Even as he thinks this, his eyelids get heavier and the hunger pains have blended in to one huge ache. The upcoming events that dance across his vision may have been a dream, but he likes to believe they're real: his mère is coming to get him. She's beautiful, with silken dark hair and jewel-like eyes. Her skin is creamy. He wants to touch it more than anything. (removed a couple of commas)

"_Maman_? Is dat y'?" The boy's heart flutters with hope. This is exactly what he needs, warm arms and a loving smile to kiss all his fears away.

"I ain't yo' mama, boy." The old hag spits tobacco on the ground near his head and collapses a few feet from him. Her smell is less than pleasant. "Shoot, wish me mama was here, _mais _she died long time back, fo' yo' mama was even born."

He doesn't know why, but he finds comfort in her presence. The boy rests his head on his knees, trying to keep his eyes narrowed slightly. "How'd y' _maman _die?"

She leans against the brick wall, regarding him expertly for a few moments. "Ain't no use tryin' to hide dem eyes. Dey was de first t'ing me noticed 'bout y'." Her black skin wrinkles in folds as her lids close. "Me pa did it. He was a gambler y' know, an' a drunk. Lost everyt'ing one day, lost 'is mind, too. Strangled her while she was sleepin'. What 'bout y', boy?"

He cowers in shame. "Mine ain't dead, she didn't wan' me."

The woman rises, not easy with her large frame, and holds the boy tightly. "Some femmes shouldn't be havin' babies, dem. Y' gotta love yo' chile, whether dey turn out how y' wan' dem or not." She smiles, and despite the missing teeth, the boy finds it to be the most beautiful smile he's ever seen.

"What's y' name?" he asks suddenly, feeling more at ease with this woman than he's felt in a long time.

She frowns. "I was always taught y' never gave out y' name to folks,"—his face falls—"_mais _we're _une famille _now, so I t'ink it'll be jus' fine." She grins again. "Y' can call m' _Tante _Mattie. An' what do I call y'?"

Again, he goes mute.

"Well? Speak up, boy. _Tante _got 'ole ears."

"I-I ain't got one. Mais people, dey call me '_le_ _diable_ _blanc_'. I hate dat name."

This seems to shock the older woman. "We can't go 'round callin' y' a devil. Ain't got a name! Well, dat jus' won' do, now will it?" Her arthritis-ridden fingers go to her chin in thought, and she grumbles broken phrases under her breath. "How 'bout…Philippe?"

The young boy makes a face, complete with a scrunched-up nose and tongue. "I wanna _good _name, _Tante_! Somethin' catchy, _mais _tough."

She gives her small companion an exasperated look. "I once knew a _homme_," -her face saddens- "he reminds me of y'."

"What was his name?"

"Remy. An' he was de most self-centered, clever, and handsome t'ing me ever set eyes on, an' he knew it, too."

They both laugh.

'Remy' grins slowly and nods eagerly. "I like dat, _Tante_. I like it a lot! An' how old am I?"

She thinks again, pinching his cheeks, rubbing his belly, mussing his hair. This of course sends Remy into a fit of giggles, and he begs her to stop.

"From what I can see, y' 'bout eight years ole." Her face gets worn all of a sudden. "Y' jus' a pup. Y' shouldn't be out here."

They both remain silent, holding onto each other, and for the first time, they aren't alone.

"See dese?" She holds something in front of him, and he fingers the thin papers curiously. "Dey're cards, an' dey gonna get y' off de streets, y' hear?"

"Whatcha mean? Y' need money to get off de streets, _Tante_. Not picture cards." Everyone knew this: it was a fact of life.

"Y' jus' get some sleep. When y' wake up, _Tante's _gonna show y' how to work dese cards an' you'll never lose, p'tite, never. Shoot, when _Tante_ done wit y', even _le diable _himself won' be able to beat y'."

Remy's stomach growls, tears blot out _Tante's _form, and he tries to wipe them away.

"Don' y' go actin' all brave, chile. Y' go head an' let dem tears fall, _d'accord_?"

Burying his face in her sagged breast, Remy sobs harder than he ever has. He's asleep moments later.

One good thing about crying: it's the perfect sleeping pill.

_My pain and all the trouble caused, no matter how long, I believe that there's hope buried beneath it all and, hiding beneath it all and growing beneath it all and, this is how we'll dance when, when they try to take us down, this is how we'll sing oh. This is how we'll stand when, when they burn our houses down, this is how we'll be oh glory. ~Let The Flames Begin-Paramore._

**Present Day New York.**

One good thing about crying: it's the perfect sleeping pill.

She'd been sobbing for an hour, and Remy had gone to Beast, asking him what could possibly be wrong. The Doctor blames her tears on a nightmare and, for the hundredth time, tells Remy he ought to go upstairs and get some sleep. The Cajun doesn't want rest. He wants his _chère _to wake up. It's been three days of non-stop worrying, and Remy isn't looking his best. He's feeling even worse.

Running his hand across his stubble, he glances over at Jean, who's also not wakened. Every medical test known to man is being performed on the two. Nothing is physically wrong with them. Cerebrally, however, is a completely different story. Both the Professor and Betsy have scanned their minds numerous times, only to find that nothing is there. Their brains are completely void of activity.

The news sent Remy whirling into dangerous state. The body could only survive for so long without the brain, even he knew this. He only left her bedside for minutes at a time. Just long enough to find a bottle of something strong enough to numb the horrible pain he feels. He should go shower. He doesn't want Rogue to smell the booze on him when she wakes up… If she wakes up—

He squeezes her hand that much harder, willing her gorgeous eyes to open and gaze upon him.

"Beast said y' could hear what I'm sayin'," he begins, chiding himself for his silliness. "I'm not so sure 'bout dat, mais I'm willin' to try anyt'ing, _chère_." He sighs and lets his head tilt back. So much to say, so much time. He wonders where he should begin. He wonders what he should say. He wonders if he should leave some things out. There are parts of his past he's not yet able to admit, even to himself. How can he admit those horrible acts to the woman he loves?

Rogue's breathing hitches but returns to its normal pace. She's beautiful. He can't understand why she can't see that. Skin that tempts him every second of every day, hair that looks like coffee and crème before it's stirred, and eyes that both break and heal his heart every time he sees them.

"Here it goes, Roguey." And then he speaks. He speaks so long his throat becomes raw and his voice gives out. Regardless, he continues to rasp and lay his burdens one by one on her slim shoulders. He speaks until nothing is left, until no secrets keep them apart.

Part of him hopes Beast is wrong and she can't hear him at all because she could stop loving him if she knew his sins. She could figure out he's never deserved her love in the first place. And if that happens, Remy knows he won't survive. If he weren't selfish, he'd tell her and let her move on, let her be loved by someone who could do it right. But he _is _selfish, and so he'll keep Rogue by his side, for as long as he possibly can.

…

_The view from her window is gorgeous. The night is perfect: the moon has never seemed so close before. It's as if she's been living blind all these years, and now her vision is no longer fuzzy. Sighing, the woman lets her arms dance above her head while the items in her room levitate in midair to a beat all their own. The darkness and wind fill her entire being, and she has no choice but to give in. Soon, her hips join the fun and sway slowly from side to side. She laughs loudly, uncaring if they hear her or not. This vessel is new, unexplored. And so powerful, even more than the other. In the other one, she'd been limited to telepathy. But with this beautiful, astonishing capsule, she could harness any gift she could ever want with only one touch. And in return, she'll keep this body young forever; she'll give this body the ultimate power. She opens her mouth to sing, and the note that spills from her lips is a breathtaking melody, liquid and fluid and surrounding the space around her. Tonight is a night of celebration, for she is human again._

…

Betsy Braddock scratches her head. "I simply can't understand it, Hank. It makes sense for Jean's psyche to be missing—that's how the absorption process works—but not Rogue's. This has never happened with any other person she's absorbed."

"True, but Rogue has never absorbed anything like Phoenix."

She nods. "Right you are, love. Right you are." Yawning, she steps inside the lab, Hank close behind her, and releases a startled gasp. "Bloody hell—"

"You can say that again, my friend."

The scene is almost exactly how they'd left it a few hours ago. The beds remained inhabited, only, _Remy _is where Rogue should have been.

"I'm going to get the others." Betsy runs from the lab, her graceful steps make no noise.

The doctor doesn't answer her. Instead, he goes to the Cajun's side and shakes him firmly. "Remy?"

Gambit groans and regards Beast groggily. "Weren't y' de one who tol' me to get some rest? Now y' botherin' dis poor—"

"Rogue is gone."

Remy sits up swiftly and examines his surroundings. He's in the bed. Rogue should've been in the— "_Mon dieu_." He hops down and runs a hand through his hair. "Where is she? I thought she was asleep!"

"As did we. I was hoping you'd know something, but apparently that is not the case."

Remy glares at Henry, though he doesn't see it. How could he remain so calm? Where is his _chère_?

Betsy comes to the door, completely out of breath. "Charles has located her. Suit up and get to the hanger."

"Betsy!" Remy calls after her. "De _Professeur _can only locate mutants who use deir powers. Rogue used hers, so she must be in trouble—" It's obvious how much the thought frightens him.

Betsy seems conflicted and unsure how to answer him. "He didn't exactly locate Rogue herself."

He frowns. This makes no sense to him. "Den who did he find?"

"Phoenix," she murmurs.

…

They find her in the middle of a mall, sitting on a bench, and watching those around her excitedly. She wears a thick jacket, effectively hiding the hospital gown.

Grinning, Remy moves to retrieve her.

"Hold your horses, lover boy." Wolverine keeps a hold of his trench. "Chuck detected Phoenix, not Rogue. Startin' a confrontation with all these people around can only lead to disaster."

"He's right, love. Be patient."

To their great surprise, Remy puts up no argument and simply nods and hangs behind the group.

They carry on with their discussion. Despite the hundreds of people wandering around the facility, it would still be very easy for Phoenix to pick their minds out from the bunch.

"Alright, Remy, we're going to— Remy?"

Neither Gambit nor Rogue are in sight.

…

He told them he was having another bad headache, and that's why he couldn't assist them. It's cowardice, he knows it, and he's pretty sure the rest of his team knows it as well.

Scott had never planned on falling for Rogue. It happened completely by accident. She'd shown up one day five years ago, her jaw hard, her eyes even harder. Torn clothes hung off her thin frame, and from that day on, Scott made a promise to protect that scared little girl, forever and always.

But things weren't that simple. They never were. Protectiveness turned into friendship, which became lust, and lust morphed into something…_more_. More than he felt for the team, more than he felt for his adoptive family, and it even surpassed what he felt for Jean. And the guilt from that torments him if he thinks about it too long.

Right after their first date, they all gushed how great he and Jean were together, how obvious the greatness of their relationship was. Eventually, Scott himself began to believe it, and he fell in love with Jean because everyone said he should be in love with her. But soon, she began to feel things for him that he didn't reciprocate. He pretended his passion matched hers because he was a gentleman, a man of duty. And he married her.

Staring down at his unconscious wife, Scott shrinks away in shame. Somehow, he'd known only one of them would wake. He'd been praying Rogue would be the one, and God has answered his prayers.

"Oh, Jean." His voice breaks and he cries. "I'm so sorry, so very sorry." Even as he apologizes, he wonders if Rogue is safe.

…

Remy just watches her for a while, marveling at her beauty. She seems to be enthralled with the glass figurines: her lips are parted and her gaze never wavers from the shelf that houses them. She is oblivious to everything around her, and he uses this to his advantage.

"_Bonjour_." He moves slowly: there's a chance Phoenix is the one in control. "Y' gave me quite de scare." He plays with them, too and keeps a polite distance between himself and Rogue.

She carefully examines the man to her side. The fingers of her mind reach out and touch his thoughts; it's a jumbled, heated mess of spiraling emotions, thoughts, worries, and desires. The man interests her. "I didn't mean to. I had to help Jean."

"Y' coulda been killed!" He knows he looks as terrified as he sounds.

"But I wasn't." Still she does not face him. "It's all okay now." She keeps her face blank. She won't make the same mistakes she made with the other vessel. She won't reveal herself too soon.

He nods, seeming to accept everything she tells him so easily. He's confident that the woman before him isn't really _his _woman, just an unwanted inhabitant. He's also confident that if he can figure this out that he can figure out everything else as well.

It's this very arrogance that will be his undoing in the end.

He caresses the small of her back. She keeps her gaze downcast. "Why won' y' look at me, p'tite?"

Now he's trying to gauge who's in control: herself, or his lover. Humans are so easy to read. "Oh Remy!" She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. "Ah'm so glad ya found me! Ah was so scared!"

The Cajun smirks bitterly and shoves her away. "Nice try, mais I know _ma chère_. She don' like touchin', an' she'd certainly never admit to missin' me."

Alright, so this human is _slightly _sharper than the rest. "You're no fun." Her acidic smile matches his, and she goes back to examining the enchanting little figures. "Adorable, aren't they?" Grabbing a fistful, Phoenix crushes them using only her bare hand, and Remy rushes forward.

"Don'—"

But the wounds have already healed, and she wipes the remaining blood on her coat. "I'm immortal, remember? Your precious girlfriend is in no danger."

Gambit manages to regain his composure. "Dat's enough, you've had y' fun. Now give Rogue control."

She giggles, returning her arms back around his neck. "You're cute. I can't imagine why she doesn't have some fun with you…" Her finger draws a pattern across his cheek. He shivers and curses himself for it. The body standing before him belongs to Rogue, but the inside is out of her control. "I'd be more than willing to let you play with me." New emotions, new sensations… She's thrilled beyond reason. She envies mankind for their ability to _feel_.

There's something intoxicating about her voice. It's hard for him to resist the offer. "_Merci_, _mais _y' ain't de one I wan'." He separates himself from her once more and reaches for his com-link. The movement is slow and deliberate. It won't do any good if she knows.

"Do not lie to me. I know all of Rogue's thoughts and memories, and she and I both know what type of man you are. We both know you'll take anything in a skirt." Her sweet smile turns to stone, and Remy feels invisible fingers wrap around his com-link and rip it from his grasp. "Trying to call your buddies?" She pouts saucily as the device turns to dust in her palm. "That hurts my feelings, Remy-poo."

He tries to ignore those chilling yellow eyes. "_Je_ _suis désolé_." His lips twist into his award-winning grin. "Dat was very rude of me. Lemme make it up to y', _d'accord_?"

She bites her lip. Her gaze crawls up and down his form. "And how would you do that?"

His arm encircles her waist. He expects to get denied until he reminds himself that she isn't really Rogue right now. "Dat's for y' to decide, p'tite." But the heat in his tone lets her know exactly what he has in mind. "How 'bout we get outta here?"

Giggling, she bats her lashes. She isn't sure about what she's currently feeling. It's a blend of emotions. Lust, excitement? They mold into one dizzying, passionate spell. She _wants _this human.

Too late, she feels the hot buzzing in her back pocket. Her teeth bare. "You—"

The impact from Remy's card sends her through three walls. Gambit follows, bo stick and an endless amount of cards in hand. If things go as planned, the X-men will have heard the explosion.

**Summer 2009.**

She tells him her name. It's his goal to sweep them off their feet so quickly, they won't have time for introductions. But this one has managed to slip it in despite his precautions. Even though he'll forget it by the end of the night, he still wishes she hadn't mentioned it. The situation is easier and less problematic when names aren't involved. It allowed his imagination to take over his senses and create his own little world. Imagination is key. Without imagination, he can't pretend night after night that the numerous women beneath him are Rogue.

He pounds into her—harder and harder. She gasps, she moans, just like every other one. He forces his ears to hear her differently. His mind makes her voice a bit smokier, slightly more husky. He focuses on the headboard instead of her, and like magic, her hair transforms and becomes longer, curlier.

He keeps his thumb over her mouth, attempting to prevent her from making anymore noise. "I love y', _chère_," his confession is uttered into her ear. He wants so badly to see her when she hits the top, but this woman isn't really her and looking down would ruin everything.

The night wears on. The darkness seeps from the room and light takes its place.

"_Oh God_!" She's reached orgasm, and her exclamation shatters the delicate spell. This woman doesn't sound like Rogue at all. He'll not be relieved tonight. The knot in his abdomen will continue to coil and coil. He'll see the belle tomorrow, and the need to loosen it inside of her will kill him.

He rolls off of her and leaves the apartment unsatisfied. His _chère _has ruined him for any other woman. You'd think after all this time, he'd come to terms with that.

…

Kicking the debris aside, Remy gathers her limp form in his arms, bridal style. Carefully, he brushes the rubble from her face and chestnut curls. "Let's get y' home, _chère_. Remy'll take care of y'." He hasn't made it far from the destruction when he hears a muffled groan.

"Remy?" Her lids crack open. She attempts to scan her surroundings, not so easy when everything is twirling and spinning around you.

Green eyes meet his, and his shoulders slump. Relief washes over him in torrents. "It's me." His grin wavers. "Y' had dis Cajun worried."

"Where am ah?" She tries breaking free, but his grip is like iron. "Ah can stand—"

"_Non_. Y' stayin' right here. Ain't lettin' y' go again."

Rogue begins to argue but decides against it. She's exhausted and Remy's embrace feels…safe. Like nothing can harm her so long as he's with her.

Iceman is the first to arrive, though the others aren't far behind. "Rogue? Is that you?" He maintains his ice-form, just in case.

"Of course, it's me. Who else would it be?"

Remy and Bobby exchange a glance. "Uh— Never mind. I say we get our asses home, eh?"

"Couldn't agree wit y' more, ice balls."

"Hey!"

Rogue laughs in Remy's shoulder. He rejoices the sound.

**February 1993.**

He kneels and peeks beneath the dining room table (her hiding spot.)

"There ya are, sweetie. Daddy's been searchin' everywhere for ya!"

The girl accepts his hand, bracing herself for what she knows is about to happen next.

"Such a pretty girl. My sweet, pretty girl." He throws her up in the air and catches her easily. Most children her age would've laughed and begged for more.

She does not. Instead, she goes limp and he's forced to set her back on the ground.

"Shame on ya! Gettin' all that dust on your new dress!" He fingers the lace trim. Beads of sweat form on his upper lip. "We'll have to get in you in the tub, won't we, Marie?"

Her mouth falls open. She's old enough to give herself a bath. She can get herself dressed. She doesn't want Daddy to lay behind her at naptime or to massage her back when she goes to sleep. These thoughts float around in her five-year-old brain, but the only thing that comes out is a small croak, and Daddy pulls her along to the bathroom.

He sits on the lip of the basin, watching his paling daughter and rubbing his thighs slowly. "Come here, honey."

She hesitates but does as he says. He is her Daddy. Good little girls always listen to their Daddies…no matter how bad it will hurt later on.

Her articles of clothing are removed one by one. He pauses. The sight of her white, cotton panties and ruffled socks makes Daddy shiver all over. Eventually, he's able to get over his initial reaction and she stands naked before him.

"The water is nice an' warm, Marie." Daddy's voice always gets extra quiet when they get to this part. "Ah put the bubbles in. Ya love bubbles." Her limbs become stiff, but she forces herself into the water.

"There we go," he murmurs, mesmerized by the water sliding down his daughter's stomach. "Daddy's gonna get all that dirt offa his baby girl, yes, he is."

They are getting further along in their ritual. He's scrubbed her slightly-freckled face, her squat back, her tiny feet, all at a painfully slow pace. He is a thorough man. He never misses a spot. It's on to her undeveloped chest. He lathers each delicate nipple with soap and gently rinses them. The sweat is now forming on his brow because they're getting closer to his favorite part. Her bellybutton is next. She hears Daddy's heart go 'thump, thump' when he reaches her chubby thighs.

"Stand up, Marie. Daddy's gotta clean everythin'."

She doesn't move, she _can't _move, so daddy does it for her and lifts her by the arms. "Don't ya wanna be clean? Good little Christian girls are clean, Marie. God won't let ya into Heaven if there's dirt down there, will he?"

She doesn't answer. He isn't expecting her to.

Daddy places the sponge on the floor. She wonders why he never uses it at this point.

Her legs wobble. She's terrified. Daddy kisses the dimples on her knees.

"Such a pretty girl," he breathes. "My sweet, pretty girl." And then his fingers slip inside to touch her secret place, the part of her that is hidden away, meant to be safe.

Daddy says he's cleaning it. But why does it feel so filthy when he finishes?

**Present Day.**

Her legs swing back and forth beneath the bed. She tries to pretend Jean isn't in the corner bed, unconscious, hooked up to machine after machine. Jean is in that bed because of her… She's taken so much from that woman already—

"—and that's why I believe it would be wise for her to remain here."

"Listen, Hank," Rogue interrupts. She can't stand it when people discuss _her _situation like she isn't in the room. "Ah'm perfectly capable of makin' decisions for myself, and Ah am _not _stayin' in this damn lab another night!"

"But Rogue—"

"But nothin'." The belle crosses her arms and glares stubbornly.

Henry turns to Remy, as if to say 'Do something!' but he only shrugs, chuckling and eyeing his _chère _lovingly. "Y' heard de _femme_. If she don' wanna stay here, den she don' stay here."

A smile breaks across Rogue's face, and Remy knows he said the right thing.

"Rogue." The Doctor straightens his glasses, he won't be getting any help from the Cajun. "You must understand that I'm only suggesting this for your safety. There are many more tests that must be run—"

"Tell me what time, an' Ah'll be here." She slides from the examining table and makes to leave.

"_Au revoir_, Beastie!" Remy follows her eagerly from the lab.

"Trying to trick me while I was preoccupied, hm?" He whips around and growls at the man sneaking through his cupboard. "Robert Drake, you drop those Twinkies right this instant!"

…

She hides just beneath the surface.

Watching, waiting.

It's all so simple, she's impressed with her own abilities. She is gaining strength with every second that ticks by.

Keeping the telepath unconscious is imperative, for the telepath would know. The telepath would sense her instantly, for she's been inside the telepath once.

Her presence is a silent killer. She moves quietly, quickly, attaching herself to every molecule that floats by.

She'll have infected so much of the brain, her vessel will have no option but to lay down and accept her fate.

She has a form once more. She no longer wanders the Universe, empty. She'll never let her vessel go.

She hides just below the surface.

Watching, waiting.

_Reaching as I sink down into life. Reaching as I sink down into life. This is, how we dance when, when they try to take us down, This is how we'll sing out. This is, how we'll stand when, when they burn our houses down, This is what we'll be Oh Glory! ~Let The Flames Begin-Paramore_

* * *

**September 19, 2010: **aiRo25 made more grammatical corrections and pointed out some storyline flaws.

The only other things that have been changed are as follows: I redid the scene between Tante and Remy, in which Tante gives Remy a name. aiRo pointed out that this was a 'monstrous coincidence' (I love her colorful writing) that he would be named the same name of his adopted family...and I couldn't agree more. I also tweaked the first conversation between Phoenix and Remy at the mall, and put French words and phrases in _italics_. No changes that directly effect the story have been made.


	3. Demon Eyes

Demon Eyes

_Looking out my narrow window I'll tell you what I see. Could it be this paranoia keeping me intact? Lock the door and load my gun, this time I'm fighting back. So take a look across your desk, you tell me why I'm here. I can see your Demon Eyes, the target has been set. Take a shot for old times sake, you've done no damage yet. I tried to look you in the eye, I tried to tell you I'm alive. I'm terrified what I might find. What you hide behind those Demon Eyes. ~Demon Eyes- The Answer._

**New York, 2034.**

He marries Ororo in a small ceremony the month before his thirty-fourth birthday. Seven years, nearly a decade, after he lost Rogue. So long…and yet, it feels like it has only been a few moments. The hurt is the same. The numbness is the same. Seven years—seven, _painful _years—all in the blink of an eye.

Sometimes he thinks he may be insane. All those years were a lie. He never fell in love with that green-eyed beauty. He never even met her. He didn't have her—didn't _touch _her—didn't give himself to her completely…

If he convinces himself these events didn't occur, he can pretend he never lost the one he loved most.

The heavy door creaks open, and her small head pokes through. "Papa?"

He smiles down at his daughter. His beautiful, wonderful little girl. She was an 'accidental' baby, conceived when he and Ororo were in their mid-forties. She's quite possibly the best mistake he's ever made.

"What y' doin' up here, p'tite? Shouldn't y' be gettin' ready for de party?"

Her grin reveals two missing front teeth. "I'm hiding from Mom. It's _boring _down there!" She skips to his chair and nuzzles his arm, easing his sadness like only she can.

He aches to tell her who she reminds him of, if only she could know who she was named after. It was absolutely selfless of Ororo to let him name their daughter Marie.

"Fine." There's laughter in his voice. "I 'spose y' can hide up here."

She has her mother's eyes and his hair. And her smile—it's always one hundred watts and brightens his day more than the sun ever could. He loves her. She makes him feel something, and though he's hollowed out and broken inside, she gives him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, he can live for something, he can redeem himself.

There's still time to save his soul, isn't there?

She was born three months early on a blazing hot day in July. The birth of his sons had greatly affected him—he couldn't deny that—but when he saw Marie for the first time—when he held the minute pink bundle in his arms—it was..._different_. More powerful. In that breathless period of time when all he could do was stare at her perfect little nose and chubby cheeks, he silently put the scant remnants of his heart in her miniature hands.

However, mere seconds later, Ororo requested to hold her, and his happy dream was shattered. Because Ororo wasn't Rogue, and that wasn't Rogue's child. Rogue should've been the one in the hospital gown, tired, but grinning broadly. Rogue should've been the one decorating the nursery. Rogue should've been the one humming contentedly while placing his hands on her swollen abdomen.

He remembers the fiery anger he felt that day. Anger at Ororo for not being the woman he loved, anger at Rogue for continuing to persecute him—even after all those years, anger at himself for letting his _chère _go in the first place. Anger at his flawless, adorable baby girl for coming out of the wrong woman.

Needless to say, his guilt devours his innards. It's excruciating, going day after day living with such a heavy burden on his shoulders. But it's nothing less than what he deserves.

Remy tried letting go of the past, he really did. But Ororo is preparing the food downstairs at this moment- that was meant for his _chère_. Ororo cried at Jeremy's graduation last weekend; she also took that from Rogue. But he's being ungrateful. His wife is the only reason he's sitting here today. She was the only one who continued pulling him through life when everyone else considered him a lost cause. The weather goddess is kind, gentle. She's given him four beautiful children. She's his crutch. And yet, he still does not love her, not even close. Because he fell for a woman once and he failed her. He is still devoted to the belle, wherever she may be.

"Y' know what?" he murmurs.

"What?"

The tiny girl suddenly becomes a massive weight; his legs feel crushed. "I like to hide sometimes, too."

"Really?" Her tongue plays with the exposed gums. "From who? You're strong enough to beat up anyone, Papa."

He chuckles, but he's churning inside. Guilt, confusion, sadness. He's strong but not invincible. He's known for years there will be a time when he'll have to leave his family. He doesn't know when this day will come, but he wants his daughter to understand how much he loves her. He never wants her to think she has anything to do with his sorrow.

"Same as y'. I hide from de boys, y' _maman_—"

Her nose crinkles and it wrenches his stomach. 'What if's' and impossible wishes fill his mind.

"Like when Unca Scott came for Chrissmiss, and you yelled at him and hided in your room?"

He stiffens and almost snaps: 'He's not your uncle,' but stops himself just in time. "_Oui_, sorta like dat." Children can be so unthinkingly cruel.

"Are you scared of him, Papa?"

He doesn't answer right away. _Is _he afraid of Scott? It's possible. Not of his physical stature—he hasn't maintained his build like Remy has—and even when Scott _was _the in-shape, fearless leader, Remy knew he could outmatch him if a fight ever arose.

"_Non_. He jus'…had somethin' I wanted."

He had Rogue's fierce, unrelenting trust. Though he never earned that privilege, Remy always yearned for it anyway. Rogue held Scott on a pedestal. To her, he was the pinnacle of what a good man was. And Remy hates him for that, among other things.

"Do you ever wanna hide from me?" She looks terrified at the thought.

He chuckles softly and kisses her forehead. "_Never_. Why would I hide from m' favorite?"

Her eyes pop open and her mouth follows suit. "_I'm_ your favorite?"

"Oui, _mais _y' can' tell y' brothers."

"I won't, Papa!"

"Y' gotta promise," he instructs. "Cross y' heart."

Keeping her gaze glued to him, the girl draws an 'x' across her chest. It's nowhere near her heart, but Remy knows she's sincere.

Their moment is ended abruptly.

"You in there, sis?" Caleb's voice sounds hollow and muffled through the thick, wooden door. "Mom says it's time to come down."

Marie giggles and Remy brings a finger playfully to his lips. They're not ready to face the world just yet.

She nods eagerly, stifling her laughter in his toned chest.

The knocking increases. "Come out, come out, pretty girl," he says in a sing-song chant. "Can't hide forever!"

_Does it help you sleep at night to play that righteous game? Why'd you say those things you said, words that you don't mean? Two faces telling lies, telling lies to me. I'm alone in my home, you'll bury me. I tried to look you in the eye, I tried to tell you I'm alive. I tried, I tried to tell you that. When there's just no medicine for those lies of mine. I'm so terrified what I might find what you hide behind those Demon Eyes. ~Demon Eyes-The Answer._

The knocking increases. "Come out, come out, pretty girl," he says in a sing-song chant. "Can' hide forever!"

The belle whips the door open. Her hair flies every which way before settling back against her breasts. How he wishes he could be those curls.

"My, my, de grapes sure are sour today." He smirks at her crossed arms and scowl.

"Can ya blame me?" She joins him reluctantly, purposely dragging her feet. "Ah'm sick of that damn lab, an' all these unnecessary tests—"

"Y' know he's bein' extra careful 'cause he's worried. We all are."

She ignores his concerned expression and continues to mope. "Ah don't get what the big deal is," she snaps. "Ah went crazy 'cause ah absorbed too much of Jean. So what? It's not like it's never happened before."

"_Je sais_. _Mais _Phoenix, she's a bit more powerful den de others, _non_?"

Rogue doesn't respond, and he wishes he'd left it alone. Her powers are a sore topic, always have been. She makes up for her inability to touch with having an iron hold on all other workings of her life: her emotions, her urges, her appearance. Everything is precise and controlled—from her ironed blouse and form-fitting jeans to the perfectly-applied mascara on her long lashes and the deep red lipstick painted on her lips.

For Remy, the king of chaos and disarray, who likes to live in the moment and operate on random, her mundane rituals drive him completely mad.

This 'Phoenix' situation is unpredictable, and so Rogue is constantly on edge. He's known to test her limits, but now is probably not the best time.

"I'm not takin' deir side, _mon amour_." He reaches for her hand, but she deliberately tucks a strand of platinum hair behind her ear. "I just don' wan' anyt'ing happenin' to y'."

Her generous bottom lip is sucked in between her teeth. Some of the tension leaves her narrow shoulders. "Ah know, Rems. It's just—" She heaves a sigh. Frustration leaks from every one of her invisible pores. "Ah wish y'all would stop worryin'. That's all."

He wants to console her, but he'll always remember the terrible sight of those golden eyes where there should have been emerald. That can never happen again as far as he's concerned, and if Rogue is getting annoyed with being protected, so be it.

"Beastie says dere aren't many more tests to run: t'ink you'll survive another day?"

"Ah dunno." She sighs and peeks up at him through her lashes with a playful smile. "Ah might die. But Ah 'spose if yoah there with me, my chances of survival are a _little _better…"

"In dat case, I'll be dere for de tests _an' _dinner."

She raises an eyebrow. "Dinner?"

"_Oui_." He leans closer and entwines his fingers through hers. "I'm takin' y' out tonight. Been a while since we went out on a date, _hein_?"

"We'll have to see about that Mr.— What was your name again?"

"LeBeau. Remy LeBeau."

"Oh, yes. We'll have to see about that date, Mr. LeBeau. My schedule is chock full of important engagements that Ah simply cannot miss… And you've certainly heard that Ah'm a taken woman."

Remy stops unexpectedly and she nearly trips. "You're jokin'! Do not play wit my heart, woman—for it is fragile!"

"Alas, dear Remy." She sniffles and pats his chest. "Ah do not kid! Ah am spoken for, Ah'm afraid, and my significant other…he's—very _protective _to say the least."

He thrusts his chest forward comically and snorts. "Jealousy does not mean power, m'lady. Give me five minutes wit de _homme_!"

"Ah'm not so sure about that." She shakes her head and purses her lips. "He's very strong…works out all the time actually." The belle runs her fingertips up along his arms and down his torso. Her mood is still playful and she giggles every so often, but her ministrations have drained the joking light from Remy's face. Instead, he swallows harshly and stares at her until she notices.

When she does, there's a dangerous grin about his lips and she blushes prettily.

"Dat boyfriend of yours is lucky, _chère_."

She shrugs and tugs him along. He's shocked to say the least. Usually, he's forced to curb his libido, and if she senses even a hint of lust, she runs fast and far away. It isn't like her to let it slide like this.

"Ah _really_ hope no one saw that," she says after a long stretch of silence.

"Lots o' couples role play. 'Sides, we're voted de mansion's 'most fucked up relationship.' Why not give 'em deir money's worth?"

She frowns. "That's not fair. Emma and Bobby _obviously _deserve that title more than we do!"

"Obviously," he agrees. "Y' don' even wanna know where Bobby let her put one of dose dildos she bought—"

Rogue cringes and attempts to stop the image before it creeps into her mind's eye, but it's of no use. "That's—that's way too much information."

"Y' tellin' me? Bobby considers me his best _ami_. I get to hear _all _de gory details."

She sniggers and when she looks up at him, he's stunned by her beauty. A man like him didn't deserve a woman like her. Which leads him to the question: why? Why is she with him? He often wonders why Rogue puts up with him, why she stays with the lowest of the low. He likes to think she's his guardian angel, protecting him and making him pure and good at the same time.

The more probable reason is because she pities him. Whether she knows it or not, he cannot tell. But she does know how much he adores her, though he doesn't always show it, and the belle is too kind to leave him. She's his one light in a bleak, discouraging world, and he needs her. He is addicted to his _chère_, and the thought of the withdrawal he'd face if she ever leaves…is terrifying.

The mood turns somber when they reach the doors to the Med lab, and Rogue dreads the upcoming few hours.

"Ah don't feel so good."

"I'll be in dere wit y', _chère_. An' after dat, we'll eat 'til your stuffed."

A smile appears on her lips, but it's weaker than he'd like it to be.

…

She's excited to finally have some alone time with her boyfriend, but lately she's been feeling different about him. The love is still there, burning strong and passionate in her chest, but with every moment she's with him, she realizes how hopeless their entire relationship is.

No marriage, no kids…hell, she can't even please him like a woman should be able to please a man. She won't make him stay with her. She won't spend the rest of her life in an unfaithful relationship. She'll let him go.

As soon as she musters up enough strength, of course.

"Alright, love. Just relax."

The belle does as Betsy asks and lets her shoulders slump and her arms fall to her sides. She tries to ignore the prickly sensation that forms around her as Betsy attempts to enter her mind. It's hard not to tense up. Rogue is not fond of telepaths.

Remy watches with piqued interest as the violet butterfly forms on Psylocke's smooth forehead. Neither woman speaks or moves, and he has the most immature urge to poke Rogue's breast, just to see if she's really as out of it as she seems. In the end, he resists the urge and spends the time watching his _chère _instead. She really is beautiful.

"Remy?" Beast whispers pleasantly. "Would you mind assisting me?"

The Cajun shrugs and throws one last smirk at the immobile women. Anything is better than that stifling quiet.

"Whatcha need, _homme_?"

The furry doctor fusses about his small office and pinches his chin. "I swear on my degree I saw those charts _right here_…"

Remy chuckles. "Y' sure Bobby ain't been in here recently?"

"He better not have been." A fierce look comes across his face. "He seems to have forgotten my threat of castration."

Remy winces and his legs unconsciously clench together. "No one deserves—"

He is cut short by a loud, high-pitched wail. It couldn't have been human, it was too intense. It fills the men's ears and forces them to their knees.

Finally, Remy cries out and falls on his back, gritting his teeth and trying to think around the pounding in his head.

Soon after, a violent tremor goes through the entire mansion and he groans, trying to see if his blue companion is alright. It's of no use, however, because books and glass and anything not nailed to the floor are being toppled over and thrown this way and that.

He rises unsteadily to his feet. A sudden desperation to find Rogue makes his stomach go cold. But right as he reaches the door, the floor in front of him splits and he's forced to flip backwards.

"_Mon dieu_…" The entire wall sways and groans before his eyes.

Something grabs him by the collar, and twisting his neck to the side, he sees that it's Henry. He moves to resist but is thrown out the window. They roll to the ground, the sound of screaming and the smell of burning wood all around them.

…

The landscape of Rogue's mind is not simple to say the least. Each psyche has their own personal world, built to suit their likes and what they see as safe and familiar. It's incredible, and Betsy looks around in awe.

They have just stepped out of an African village and are now slipping into a white Canada. The snow falls heavily, but it does not seem to touch them.

"Where are you taking me, Rogue?" Betsy finds the echo of her own voice unnerving.

Rogue does not answer at first, instead focusing on the path ahead of them. "Ah'm takin' ya to _her_. She's at the very back."

They continue on their way, and Betsy can't help looking at everything in awe. How could Rogue achieve something like this without any telepathic abilities?

Minutes slip by, and then Rogue stops abruptly. "Ah can't."

Frowning, Betsy follows her line of vision and sees a blond-haired boy sitting on a rock. She assumes its Cody, though she can't be sure. She and Rogue were never particularly close, and she's only heard of 'Cody' in passing once or twice.

Unbeknownst to the telepath, Cody isn't necessarily what Rogue is afraid of. It's what Cody represents. He's the last major absorption that ended her time in Mississippi for good, and once they pass him… Once they pass him she'll have to see things she's tried to hide away forever.

"Ah can't," she says again.

Not wanting to push the obviously-shaken woman, Betsy simply nods. "Alright, love. We've gone far enough today. But Rogue, we'll have to go there eventually. Phoenix cannot reside in your mind."

The belle nods, turning from the scene and retreating away quickly. Betsy moves to follow.

"Wait!"

Both women turn to the distraught boy, and Cody runs towards them.

"Please," he whimpers, "please don't leave me alone again!"

Betsy looks up at him and hears a small cry from Rogue. What in God's name was going on? Since when can the psyches interact?

Interest piqued, she decides to attempt communication.

"Hello. Your name is Cody, right?"

"Betsy, don't!" Rogue's small hand touches her shoulder. "Betsy, please don't. Let's go, let's get out of here—"

"Yeah, that's my name. Ah'm so lonely. Won't ya stay with me for a while?"

She examines him carefully. He seems so able, so intelligent. Rogue has always said that the voices in her mind are simple, with one goal: making her life a living Hell. Upon their entering her mind, Rogue strips all psyches of their ability to think on their own: their dreams, their wishes and desires. It seems cruel, but it's necessary for maintaining her sanity. Of course, all this information is stored somewhere in Rogue's brain. Has Cody discovered how to tap into it?

"Why did she do this?" Her whisper is shaken and terrified. "Why did she give it back to them?"

"Rogue, everything's okay…"

The ground has begun to sway like water, and the natural shadows from the trees and other objects in the landscape seem to be growing larger.

"No! What's she doin'? They'll hurt me. He'll get me—"

"Nonsense! Cody doesn't want to hurt you!"

"Not Cody. Him."

Something black and massive wraps around Betsy's ankles.

The last conscious thought she has is that this power is immeasurable.

Nothing on this Earth could even hope to harness it.

…

_The snow and wind seems to smack against the windows. The crackling fire reflects in her hauntingly beautiful eyes._

"_Why y' do so much for her? Y' an' Jeannie have never been very close." There is suspicion in his voice. Rogue can see he feels guilty for that._

"_Ah owe Jean so much more than ya could ever know, Remy." She rests her chin on her knees and looks him in the eyes, trying to make him understand._

_But he doesn't want to. Because this has something to do with Scott. Didn't it always?_

"_Chère, I know I've asked y' before…" He licks his lips nervously and silently pleads for patience. "Mais y' sure, y' an' Scott—you've never been more den friends, right?"_

"_Ah'm sure. He's like my big brother." She has to force the lies from her mouth._

_He nods, slightly relieved. He makes himself believe that yes, Rogue would risk her own life for the second time for Jean because Scott is a close friend. Rogue would never lie to him. Rogue is pure and honest. _

_Rogue is perfect. _

"_I just, I just don' wanna lose y'."_

_Tears form somewhere deep down but she keeps them at bay. "Ah have her heart," is the only explanation she gives him._

_He won't understand this until much later._

…

The view from her window is gorgeous. The night is perfect: the moon has never seemed so close before. It's as if she's been living blind all these years, and now her vision is no longer fuzzy. Sighing, the woman lets her arms dance above her head, while the items in her room levitate in midair, to a beat all their own. The darkness and wind fill her entire being, and she has no choice but to give in. Soon, her hips join the fun and sway slowly from side to side. She laughs loudly, uncaring if they hear her or not. This vessel is new, unexplored, and so powerful—even more than the other. In the other one, she'd been limited to telepathy. But with this beautiful, astonishing capsule, she could harness any gift she could ever want with only one touch. And in return, she'll keep this body young forever and give this body the ultimate power. She opens her mouth to sing, and the note that spills from her lips is a breathtaking melody, liquid and fluid and surrounding the space around her. Tonight is a night of celebration, for she is human again.

Those idiots thought they could ruin her joy, thought they could keep her locked in that tiny room, thought they could punish her for hurting one of their precious own and destroying part of their school. The woman isn't even dead. Close, but still breathing and sustaining that miserable body of hers, and the building is still standing isn't it?

It is of no consequence because she's eliminated yet another telepath and she's used the gift of the one called 'Kitty' to phase from that tiny cell and come here, to see the moon.

The gorgeous moon.

The belle wakes on her bed and yawns. She hasn't slept like that since, since… Was there ever a time?

The digital clock catches her eye. 3:45 in the morning. Had she really slept since the session with Betsy? Now her whole day is wasted—and the dinner with Remy! Why didn't he wake her up?

Suddenly, the yearning to see him is more than she can bear. Thinking simply of Kurt, she feels herself pulled from her room and deposited outside of his.

Something isn't right…she can't do that, can she?

_He wants you. Don't make him wait._

She remembers now. Remy. She has to see him!

She glides through the door and looks around his dark room, somehow able to see every detail of the space clearly.

He's in a deep sleep, blankets tangled around his feet. With a small blush, she realizes he's completely naked.

_Touch him. You know you want to. You've always wanted to, from the very first moment you saw him. Remember?_

She shakes her head, backing away from the slumbering Cajun. She can't do this, her skin—

_I won't let you hurt him, I promise. I can control it. You know I can._

She can't resist it, and she slides her finger from his shoulder to his calf. He murmurs something, and her heart skips a beat.

_Do not worry. I have immersed him in beautiful dreams. He will not wake up._

Rogue looks at him more closely, and sure enough, there's a contented smile on his lips.

She stifles a giggle and bends to kiss his lips. Hesitating, she wonders if this is really a good idea.

_He is safe, and he will not wake. Go on. You want it. You want it so very badly, don't you?_

It isn't a question because Rogue does want it. And this thing inside her knows this and every other thought, emotion, fear, memory, or desire she possesses.

She kisses him softly, running her gloveless hands through his hair and over his chest and down his rippling stomach—

Pain explodes on her scalp as he pulls her back by the hair and pins her to the ground. Her shirt is aglow with a kinetic charge. She makes no movement or sound, instead clamping her eyes shut and wishing herself away.

**New Orleans, Louisiana. 1992.**

Remy holds on tightly to _Tante's _withered hand and tries not to question her again. It annoys the older woman.

But can he be blamed? Their schedule has never varied much for the past two years. Remy would do the pick-pocketing and Tante would wash laundry and sew and cook for money. They ate what they could and slept in the driest, warmest place they could find. On rare occasions, they slept in a motel or in a vacation home some family had abandoned.

But today is completely different. He was woken uncommonly early and taken to a local park where Tante scrubbed him in a fountain until his skin turned pink and throbbed. Once he was dried, she pulled out a suit he'd never seen before and put it on him. It was a size too big, but Remy had never felt so 'fancy' before.

"Where we goin', _Tante_?"

She pinched his arm and told him not to move. Didn't he know how hard it was trying to button with arthritis? And so he stifled his questions until later, when he could take it no more.

"Can' y' tell _moi _what's goin' on?"

"Y' ask too many questions, chile. Chillen should be seen, not heard. Ain't y' never heard dat befo'?"

Pouting, the red-eyed boy once again quells his curiosity and instead focuses on where they're going. With a start, he realizes they've never really ventured to this part of the quarter before, the rich part.

Huge, thin houses with ornate shrubbery and cobble stone sidewalks are all he can see. All the lawns are manicured and the fences seem to have just received a fresh coat of paint. He can see quaint, neat-looking shops and smell the fresh donuts from the _boulangerie(1). _Even the streets are well kept, and little black fences encircle all the enormous trees.

It's like heaven for Remy, but even so, apprehension fills his gut. This is like no place he's ever seen, and for the hundredth time, he wants to question his guardian. She simply continues waddling forward, knowing where to go like she's been there dozens of times before.

Eventually they reach the gate of the biggest house he's seen so far. It's yellow with white bordering, and at least a half mile of land separates them from the house itself. A box in front of Tante buzzes. He hears a man's voice.

"_Le quel est vous avez besoin de?(_2)"

"I'm here t' see Jean Luc. Tell him it's Mattie Rose Baptiste."

The man sighs impatiently. "_Une momente, s'il vous plaît_."

"_Tante_, what's—"

She doesn't ignore him this time. "Dis is de LeBeau household."

He frowns. "LeBeau? Dey y' friends, _Tante_?"

She purses her lips, and he sees tears forming in her eyes. "Once, a long time ago, m' husband lived here. He was like family, an' dey named him Remy. Remy LeBeau."

Remy's eyes widen.

"Dese past few years I been preparin' y' boy. All dat gamblin' an' t'ievin'? It's all been to prepare y' for dis moment."

She glances down at him, her black eyes full of some emotion he doesn't recognize.

"If y' impress dem wit y' skill, dey'll take y'. Y' never be on de streets again. An' I'll never have t' see y' go hungry again. I don' ever wanna see y' go hungry again, m' ole heart can't take it I tell y'."

The boy can only stare. Somehow, he feels destiny changing and he knows coming to this house has sealed his fate.

**Present day New York.**

She remains in the room though, in pain, beneath him. It isn't long before he realizes who it is.

"_Chère_?" He frowns drowsily and releases her, taking her hand and helping her to stand.

Her hand, her bare hand.

Is he dreaming?

"Ah'm sorry!" For some reason she doesn't really mean this. "Ah just—"

She goes silent, knowing he isn't really listening. He can't stop looking at their intertwined hands. She smiles.

Skin to skin, they're touching! "How? How is dis possible?"

She doesn't answer. Her eyes close and her feet rise from the ground so she can kiss him.

He groans as their tongues mingle. This couldn't be real. Rogue couldn't levitate, Rogue couldn't touch—

All semblance of thought leaves his mind as her hand reaches downward to stroke him. Ecstasy shoots through all of his nerve endings and he fears he might lose control right then and there.

He pulls back slowly to look into her eyes and, with a shout of sudden anger, throws her as hard as he can across the room.

She pauses in mid-air seconds before she hits the television. Phoenix smiles cruelly and lowers herself to the ground. Her golden eyes glow eerily in the darkness.

"Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"You're no guest here! Get out, now."

She pouts. "But my room is so dark and lonely… Won't you come help me warm it up?"

"I didn't mean out of de room." His fists clench and he shakes with unadulterated anger. "I meant out of Rogue's body."

She sighs and pushes white hair from her eyes. "I'm afraid that's one thing I won't do for you, my darling. I need this body." She chuckles harshly. It's nothing like the sweet laughter Rogue can create.

"Now that I think about it, you need this body, too, isn't that right?"

Before he can prepare himself, she's right in front of him, draping herself across his shoulder.

"So why not take it?" Her tongue slides across her lips, and her finger draws circles on his back and trails up and down his spine.

She smirks at his shiver. "We both know Rogue would let you. She wants it badly—"

"_Non_." He plants his feet firmly and turns from her. "You'll never convince me. Never."

"Well that's too bad. I wonder if Scott's awake—"

Remy takes her wrist in a crushing grasp and brings her roughly to his chest.

"Did I make you mad, Remy-poo?" She pouts and looks down at their hands. "Careful. You don't want to leave a bruise—"

He lets go reluctantly and turns away from her, pulling a sheet from the bed and wrapping it around his waist.

"Y' gotta give Rogue her body back."

"But I'm having so much fun!" He feels her approaching him. "Besides, you know you couldn't stand watching them lock her up in that tiny room. They're going to do much worse if you tell them I escaped."

Her lips press against his shoulder blade. "Ya can't let them put me in there again. It's so small… Ah'll never do anythin' bad again. Just don't make me go back. Please, Rems?"

Shoulders slumping, Remy sighs deeply. And as usual with matters involving what his _chère _wanted, he finds himself giving in much too easily.

_You love to look me in the eye to tell me you're alive. You've got the Demon Eyes. You love to look me in the eye to tell me you're alive. You've got the Demon eyes. You gotta know I tried, you gotta know why. I tried, I tried to look you in the eye and tell you I'm alive. I tried, I tried to tell you. When there's just no medicine for those lies of mine. Still terrified what I might find what you hide behind those Demon Eyes. ~Demon Eyes-The Answer_

_

* * *

_

**October 05, 2010: **Corrected chapter three is here! **aiRo25 **did her thing and went through each and every line with tender love and care. (Maybe not, but I imagine so.) Nothing that directly effects the story has been changed or edited.


	4. A Walk Through Hell

A Walk Through Hell

_And if I could swim, I'd swim out to you in the ocean, swim out to where you were floating in the dark. And if I was blessed, I'd walk on the water you're breathing, to lend you some air for that heaving sunken chest. I'd Walk Through Hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes, these soles are useless without you. Through Hell for you, let the torturing ensue, my soul is useless without you. ~A Walk Through Hell-Say Anything_

**April 2007.**

Two southerners climb the steep hill right outside the Mansion's property. Spring is in full swing, and like the flora and fauna, their love can either bloom or remain stagnant. It's a crossroads of sorts: one road could lead them to love, another to disaster, and even another to heartbreak.

Fate is waiting for them to make the first move. The two can feel it, subconsciously. They can feel the swell of emotion and potential waiting to be released.

"Looks like somebody's a little outta shape," she chides and offers him her gloved hand.

He accepts it and powerful shock waves go through his system. That has happened a lot lately, and Remy is confused.

He isn't sure when things changed.

One day he woke up and she popped into his mind, first thing. It wasn't anything spectacular, just a fleeting glimpse, and he got up to get ready for the day. But it kept reoccurring: her face appeared in his head so often he could no longer ignore it. When he woke up, when he went to sleep, when he flirted with another woman, when he ate, when he jogged, and everywhere in between.

She lays across the smooth rock, her creamy legs crossed and her flawless face upturned towards the beating sun. Her luscious curls sway in the warm breeze, and the pink and white cherry blossoms flit down to caress her bare shoulders and thighs.

She's wearing cut-offs and a tank top. It is very unlike her, to show so much skin. So much perfect, knee-quivering skin! A small smile lifts the natural pout of her lips. The sight warms him but turns his heart to ice at the same time. Because sometime during the past months, she's stopped being just a challenge and started being his everything. And he's scared. He's scared because Remy LeBeau had never fallen in love before. He's scared because, for him, love and sex went hand in hand. Yet, he's never had the privilege of touching her skin, but he'd die for her. He _lives _for her.

He's scared because he isn't anywhere near to deserving her. He's scared because she knows this.

The Prince of Thieves has let his heart get stolen. How ironic.

_And if I was brave, I'd climb up to you on the mountain, they led you to drink from their fountain, spouting lies. And I'd slay the horrible beast they commissioned to steer me away from my mission to your eyes. And I'd stand there, like a soldier, with my foot upon his chest, with my grin spread, and my arms out, in my bloodstained Sunday's best, and you'd hold me, I'd remind you who you are under their shell. ~A Walk Through Hell-Say Anything_

**Present Day New York**

The Prince of Thieves has let his heart get stolen. How ironic.

And that's why he's here, in some shitty motel at 6:00 in the morning, with a sleeping belle who rested her head on his lap. He'd somehow managed to sneak her out of the Mansion, and there's no doubt the all-reliable X-men will start scouring the city once they notice their absence. But that was all well and fine: it wouldn't be the first time he's had to disappear, and he somehow knows it won't be the last.

He slips his fingers through her hair and decides that yes, she was definitely worth it. Rogue asks so little of him, making sure she isn't held there against her will is the least he can do. And doesn't he know exactly how she feels? People like him couldn't stay anywhere for too long. People like him couldn't be locked away. People like him couldn't be at peace, couldn't relax unless they had an escape plan, just in case.

Remy shakes his head tiredly. Too much thinking too early. And besides, there is no comparison between himself and Rogue: it's like dirt to gold, rain to sunshine, despair to hope. They aren't meant to be. They're just hurting each other and…

Remy grits his teeth and clears his mind. No more thinking; thinking is not good.

Stifling a yawn, he lays Rogue gently in the bed and checks the locks on the windows and door once more. It's unnecessary. No one would bother to rob a place like this, and he's checked them multiple times already. In the unlikely chance someone does try to disturb them, they'd pay with their life. As for the threat of the X-men, he's taken them far enough out of the city to allow one or two days in peace.

With that in mind, the Cajun removes his coat and shoes and slips into the bed. For a while he stares lovingly at Rogue's curved back. Fighting back guilt, he turns her and presses their bodies together.

Her lips touch where his heart beats.

…

She's in the place just before awareness. Thoughts and sensations are coming back to her with increasing clarity. Light is leaking through her eyelids. Her mind is beginning to awake also. The 'sun' breaks the horizon and the 'rain' she imagined the night before has faded, only puddles were left. The 'birds' chirp and finally, she forces herself to leave her cocoon in the tree.

She sticks her foot out first and proceeds to jump from the branch. Like always, the wind holds her weight just in time, and she's deposited safely to the dewy meadow. Looking down at her flowing green slip, the belle frowns at the dirt and leaves. It takes only a swipe of her hand to make these nuisances disappear, and her attention is then turned to the 'river'.

Kneeling next to the water, she rights her appearance and stretches towards the rising 'sun'. She feels good. She hasn't woken this refreshed in a long while.

Before she can even enjoy her rested body, _it _appears right out of the river.

It has no real form. It is just a black, distorted shape that moves and sways as it pleases. Two golden eyes shine in the top part of it, and at the center, where the heart should be, is a burning orb. The flames lick out then branch like veins and capillaries throughout the entire being.

After stepping onto the grass, it transforms into its preferred form. Rogue shivers as this happens because it's like staring into a mirror, save for the black slip instead of green and the harsh yellow eyes focused on something in the distance. It smiles, but it comes across as more of a sneer.

Her eyes narrow. "You've done it again."

It doesn't answer. Instead it closes the distance between them and presses its lips to Rogue's. Scenes flash through the belle's mind and she's able to see what occurred 'outside' from the time she'd fainted in Remy's room to now.

She trips while trying to back away. She doesn't like the thought of kissing herself, of kissing it! At first she'd been able to keep it at the back of her mind. But now it's claimed this place as its home. Now it has the ability to take over and walk around in her body.

"Ah've told ya and told ya, takin' over isn't right! An' hurtin' Betsy like that—"

"I told Remy how much we didn't like being punished." Rogue could recognize her own voice in it, but there was something bigger, more powerful to it.

"He was hesitant at first, but I simply added a few endearments and slipped into your accent." It sighs. "It's almost sad the way he pines over you."

Fury makes her fists shake. There was no 'we' in the situation. And the thought of it touching Remy, _her _Remy, makes her vision go red.

It giggles. "You're jealous!" It looks away dreamily. "Jealousy, another confusing, yet interesting human emotion." It shrugs. "You needn't worry; he won't have me. I've tried. Aren't mortal men easily seduced? Especially _your _lover—"

"Shut up! What Remy does is none of yoah business! Ya have no right communicatin' with him! When ah said ya could stay here it was under the conditions that ya behaved and didn't cause me any trouble…"

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Her head cocks to the side. "I can see it in your aura, this huge, red mass. The thought of him with other women makes you physical ill." Something in her face quickens and she clings to Rogue's arm. "Let me punish him for you! Let me—"

Rogue slaps it as hard as she can. "Don't _ever _think about hurtin' him, got it?"

It nods swiftly and sniffles.

Sighing, Rogue wraps her arm around it and it lays its head against her breast.

"I love you," it whispers.

"An' ah love Remy, understand?"

"Yes. I love what you love. I won't ever hurt him, ever!" It begins to jump and twirl in the rain puddles. "In case you were wondering, Remy brought us to a motel, three hours away from Westchester. It's kind of disappointing really, we both know he could afford much better. And if he couldn't, he could have at least robbed a rich man—"

"Stop it." She rubs her temples and tries to think. Why didn't he get help when he realized Phoenix was the one in control? Didn't he understand the danger? That he's quite literally playing with fire? It took all the strength she had to stop it from killing Betsy— What is Remy trying to pull? She _needs _to be locked up.

"Oh, and one more thing I should probably tell you: you and Remy made love last night." She pauses mid-hop. "Well, technically _me _and Remy made love, but he thought it was you of course."

Horror creeps up the southerner's spine and her mouth falls open.

Its hand smothers a laugh and it wanders even further away. "I was only joking!" And then it's gone, disappearing into the trees and mountains.

Relief makes her eyes water, she turns to the river and jumps in, allowing her body to wake up.

…

She smells food, something good and spicy.

She blinks once, twice, and then sits up. She examines the small, dingy room, and confirms that Phoenix had been telling the truth with her words and visions.

Invisible hands lift the blankets and she levitates from the bed, following the scent of the food. Finding it in the kitchen, she lifts the sausages one by one and devours them in seconds. She washes her hands and turns to a closed door. Scanning it quickly, she determines that it's the bathroom, and Remy is inside showering. With a sly grin, she phases through the door and into the steamy space.

She can hear him humming softly to himself. Ever so quietly, she phases through the shower curtain and steps deftly behind him. She licks her lips at the sight of his back muscles.

It's only a matter of time before the Cajun stiffens and whips around to find her behind him.

"G'mornin'." She smiles daintily and raises a hand to shield herself from the spraying water.

He smiles back stiffly, barely able to hear her over the rapid pounding of his heart. Why didn't he sense her? He's Gambit: master thief, known for his keen skills and abilities. And yet, she managed not only to enter the bathroom in the first place, but also to stand right behind him in the damned shower.

"_Chère_, how did y'—"

"Move over, swamp rat." She brushes past him and pulls her nightgown over her head.

Remy does his best to keep his eyes on the wall next to him.

"Oh come on!"

He can see from the corner of his eye that she's lathering the soap all over her body.

"Don't act like you've never seen a naked gal before 'cause we both know you've seen _many_." There's an edge of bitterness in her tone.

"Never one so belle," he answers smoothly, still refusing to look at her.

"If Ah'm so beautiful, then why won't ya look at me?" She drags her nails up and down his chest. "She took away my poison skin, Remy! We can touch now! Don't ya wanna touch me?"

He bites back a groan. "More den anyt'ing in de World, _mais _not until I'm sure she ain't speakin' for y'."

She yanks his jaw down towards her. "Look in my eyes. _Ah'm _in control!"

He does look into them. And sure enough, they're big and crystal green and as beautiful as ever. Even so, something in his gut is causing him to rethink what she's saying and his gut has never let him down before.

"_Chère_." He caresses her narrow shoulders gently. "Y' know how bad I wan' y, how bad I've _always _wanted y', _mais _I could never forgive myself if y' were bein' influenced by her in any way. Dats why I—"

"Ah've already told ya that it's me! Remy, please—"

His breathing quickens. How can he turn her away when she begs him for the exact thing he's wanted to do for every minute of two years? How can he maintain his resolve when she nibbles her lip like that?

But he can't be weak because it's obvious from the powers she's used and her behavior that his _chère _is not as in control as she would like to think.

"I know y', p'tite, an de Rogue I know isn't like dis!"

Her mouth tightens into a line and her glare is venomous. "It's pretty obvious ya don't know a _fuckin' _thing about me!" She throws back the curtain and wraps a towel around herself savagely. The entire room shakes when she slams he door.

Running a trembling hand across his face, Remy swallows deeply and turns the shower knob over to COLD.

**November 2008.**

It's like watching things unfold from somewhere up above. He's a part of the audience; he's an insignificant individual.

This isn't his life. He didn't just crush the only woman that mattered to him. He isn't mounting his bike, ready to leave this place and never look back.

She isn't really inside crying: it's all just an act. The cruel, unforgivable things he said to her were part of the script; the heartbreak in her eyes wasn't authentic.

She'd get an award for that performance, yes she would.

The setting was a bedroom, with minimal articles about because the owner of the room had never planned on staying long. There's a man and a woman on the large bed. The man is extremely handsome and to call the woman simply 'beautiful' would be a sin. Because she's unreal, this green-eyed woman.

The scene starts with them kissing through a scarf. The man is delirious from the pleasure: it isn't often that the woman lets him do something like this.

Of course, being the selfish man he is, the man isn't satisfied with just this. He begins caressing the woman through her shirt and begs her to touch him. The woman is obviously afraid, but her gloved hand slips down his pants obediently.

It's almost too much for the man, and he groans her name. If possible, this makes things get even steamier and his control begins to crumble. The man's hands leave her breasts and travel to her thighs. It's so slow and he's so sneaky, the woman doesn't even notice until his hand goes between her legs, he can feel her concentrated warmth.

The woman visibly stiffens, and the man knows his time on Heaven is about to end. Sure enough, she makes her complaint known.

"Stop, Remy." The woman's command is shaky.

But the man doesn't stop; it felt too good. He becomes more rough, holding her wrists down with so much force bruises will appear the next day. He bites her covered neck. It leaves a mark.

Her pleas become more desperate. "Ah said stop!"

Her knee inevitably connects with his crotch, and with a hoarse grunt, he releases her. His eyes are clouded over from both lust and a pain only a man can know.

The woman hides her tear streaked face in her hands.

Tonight her tears have no effect on the man, and he shows no sympathy. "What de fuck is y' problem, _hein_? We both know y' want it, so stop tryin' to be a damn martyr an' jus' give in!"

She shakes her head miserably. "Ah don't wanna hurt ya—"

"Oh, so kickin' me in de fuckin' balls ain't gonna hurt?" He grabs her wrist in a painful grasp. "Don' give me dat bullshit!"

"What was Ah supposed to do!" The woman finally manages to get a grip of herself. Self-justification makes her sit tall. "Was Ah just supposed to lay there and let ya rape me?"

He gives her a look of pure disgust and drops her wrist. "S'not rape when y' wan' it, is it, _chère_?" The man's mocking tone cuts the woman's heart.

The woman retreats back to the bed and the man knows it's time for his most important act. There's no noise in the background. A pin drop could be heard.

"I been t'inkin'—"

His palms sweat. It's the most crucial point in the scene.

"—a lot lately. An' I don' know—"

The lights from the camera hurt his eyes. The director is feeding him the line.

"—if I can be with a _femme _dat can' touch. Thought I could, but all dis shit ain't worth it."

Now say it: follow the script; break her heart.

"_Yo' _not worth it. Y' nothin' but a leech, a parasite."

The scene ends with the man slamming the door. The woman falls to her knees. He can hear her cry his name all the way down the hall.

And now he's on his bike. The engine is purring, ready to be released. But still his feet remain on the ground. They've had fights before. She screamed just as loud as he did. She got as angry as he did. She threatened to leave just as many times as he did. She walked away as often as he walked away.

But never had she gone for blood. Never had she cut him deeply. She had her limits and she stuck to them.

How could he? How could he have drug up her deepest fear and thrown it in her face? She'd confided in him all the time about how scared she was of being alone, how terrified the thought of him leaving her because of what her skin made her, how awful the thought of her power holding her back for the rest of her life.

He wanted to hurt her and he had. Only this time, he might have gone too far. There may never be another scene, the movie could end right here, unfinished.

His heart stops and he dismounts the motorcycle. It crashes to the ground but he could care less.

He could do them both a favor: he could leave now and save them from even more heartbreak later on.

But as he runs to the room and holds the woman tightly and begs to be taken back and gives his heart to her another time, he knows he'll choose this woman over reality every time.

**Present Day.**

Opening a suitcase she noticed earlier, Rogue finds a few of her outfits and toiletries. He'd conveniently forgotten to pack her make-up and gloves.

She snorts at the lingerie he'd brought. But having limited options, she puts them on. Along with the form-fitting jeans and low-cut baseball shirt. Luckily for her, there's a hoodie and coat in the case and she puts them on gratefully.

Finding her toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, Rogue marvels at the skill it must have taken for Remy to sneak both the suitcase and herself out.

She enters the bathroom just as Remy finishes dressing. He eyes her appreciatively and something hot splashes across her body and makes her legs quake.

She pouts seductively. "Are ya sure ya won't take me up on my offer?"

Obviously, she doesn't believe he was serious earlier, and the way she's looking at him makes it almost impossible to refuse. Can't she feel that she isn't herself? That she never speaks or acts this way?

He clutches her waist and presses his lips against his ear. He hears her whimper and she gathers his shirt in her fists.

"Not here, _chère_. I promise I'll do anyt'ing and everyt'ing y' wan' me to, _mais _it'll be some place nice." His tongue flicks her earlobe and she loses all grasp of reality. "I won' have y' first time be in dis shit hole, _comprenez_?"

Her arms go around his neck and she shakes her head. "But Remy, Ah'm not a—"

And then her eyes go wide in shock. She clamps her mouth shut and pulls away from him. He was right: she isn't in control. Because she'd never come so close to revealing her secrets. She'd never be so careless! She almost told him... It would shatter his heart: she knows it would! Tears prick her eyes and she begins to cry. Remy could never know. The secret would have to be her burden and hers alone forever.

She sobs harder when his arms go around her.

"What is it, Rogue? What's wrong?" He rubs comforting circles in her back and kisses her salty cheeks.

"It's Marie," she breathes on his lips. Even as he kisses her, her stomach clenches. That name, that name has so much pain attached to it—

_"Stand up, Marie. Daddy has to punish you now."_

_"Ya ever been kissed, Marie?"_

_"Marie, poor Marie. It wasn't your fault, do you understand? It wasn't your—" _

_"Sweet, pretty girl. Daddy's angel. Yes, touch it just like that, Marie. Yes...oh Marie yes!"_

"Marie." He tries the name out and decides he likes the way it sounds. "Is dat really y' name? I'd always wondered—"

Her voice wavers. "Ya can't call me that name ever again." She turns from his sad, red eyes and wipes the tears away. She couldn't break down, she couldn't be weak...

"Where's my make-up?" She regards him coldly, as if the tender moment they'd just shared had never occurred. "Ah need it."

Remy raises his eyebrow in confusion. "Dere's a bag in de closet—"

She leaves and re-enters seconds later with her lipstick and mascara in hand. She's smiling.

"Thanks, Remy. Yoah always thinkin' about me. Ah really don't deserve ya."

The Cajun can only stare as she leans towards the mirror and applies the products. The constant mood swings are making him dizzy.

"Ah'm hungry," she states when she finishes. "Can we go get somethin' to eat?"

"I made breakfast." He points in the general direction of the kitchen.

"Ah already ate it." She blushes softly and shrugs at his surprise. "Ah've had quite the appetite lately."

He's regretting taking her from the mansion with every minute that goes by. As much as it hurts him to admit it, he can't protect her this time. Rogue is not well, and she needs help, help he can't give. He's taken her away from the only chance she has of getting better. Once again his selfishness has put her in some sort of predicament.

"We'll stop for somethin' to eat on de way home, _d'accord_?"

She goes pale. "But Remy— Ah don't wanna go back!" She hugs herself. "They'll put those restraints on my wrists again, they'll lock me in that dark, little room!"

He reaches for the belle when he sees the tears beginning to rise. "S'okay, _chère_. Calm down."

He contemplates as she sobs on his chest. His heart is breaking. It's obvious Rogue is terrified at the thought of going back. She'd never forgive him if he doesn't give her a chance to solve her problems without the X-men. That's just who she is: independent, fiery, and strong. Her pride would be severely wounded and that's never a good thing…

One more day, that's all. One more day won't hurt anything. He'll take her some place nice for dinner tonight and tell her there. He'll give her time to accept his decision and then they'll head back to the mansion.

Mind made up, Remy kisses her forehead and pushes her white bangs from her tear streaked face. "All right, _chère_. We won' go, at least not yet."

The transformation on her face makes it seem as if she'd never cried in the first place. She kisses him passionately and he groans inside her mouth. It quickly becomes heated, and he's forced to pull away gently.

"Let's go get de food."

She smiles gratefully and shoves her feet into the shoes she found in the suitcase. "How are we gonna get there?"

He smirks cryptically. "M'sure someone would be willin' to help us—"

She frowns but follows him unknowingly from the hotel. They walk for a few blocks, his arm thrown casually over her shoulders and her hand in his back pocket.

This is all she's ever wanted to have with him, normalcy. Being able to touch him without fear or guilt because he's safe. Her skin is no longer a threat.

But Remy wants to take her back to the Mansion, and _they _wouldn't understand. They wouldn't be able to accept the being inside of her. Rogue isn't fond of the idea either, but this might be her only shot at a happy life. _Anything _was worth that.

She looks up at him. "Do ya like this, Remy?" Her cheeks get warm when he turns to her. "Just the two of us together?"

He purses his lips and her stomach twists in knots. "'Course I do. Why?"

"No reason, it's just—"

He squeezes her shoulder encouragingly. "Go 'head, _chère_."

"Well, Ah just thought that things would be goin' different. Ya know?"

"How so?" He pulls her down an alleyway.

Distracted by the garbage and path, she doesn't answer. There's a tickling at the base of her head that gets stronger the further they go.

She sees herself as a child: cold, hungry, and alone. Details begin forming around her. The smell of sewage, the feel of cold concrete beneath her. Tante was making her practice cards while she went in search of food—

Rogue shivers and presses herself against Remy's warm arm. Grief and pity make her love him even more. She wants to show him sympathy but knows he would never take it. That child was him. He is projecting these thoughts and somehow she is receiving them. But his mental shields…

She focuses on the back of his head and opens her mind even more. More images flash through her head. The process is very similar to what happens when she absorbs someone, and so she is able to sort through them easily. At first it's more of his childhood memories. All of them make her want to hold him tight.

She pushes a little more. Her initial guilt is replaced with a burning urge to know him, to really understand the man she loves. Doesn't she deserve this? For the love of God, the only things she knows about Remy LeBeau are that he's twenty-seven, he used to be a professional thief, and for some reason he will never tell her, he can never go back to New Orleans.

A fuzziness surrounds her. He still hasn't noticed her intrusion. He is hungry, and not just for food. She sees many scenarios of the things Remy wants to do to her. He is constantly fighting the urge to throw her up against a wall and have his way for her. He can't do it, not while Phoenix is inside of her. He can't let himself give in; he can't be distracted. She can touch, God, he's holding her hand!

Two years he has wanted her. And he's so close. The obstacle of skin is gone. She wants it, badly…

Rogue soon gets caught in the swirl of his arousal. Remy's fantasies become her own. They think on the same wavelength. If she goes just a little further into his mind she could tap into the truth. She and Remy could be as close as they'll ever be!

Before she can proceed with her plan, the Cajun glances back at her with a grin. "I've found our volunteer."

Shaking her head to clear it some, she follows the path of his pointed finger. An older man in a business suit leaves his car in the parking lot, and, looking around with his beady eyes, enters the building.

Remy is literally drooling for the abandoned Ferrari.

"No." It isn't hard to guess his plan. "There's no way Ah'm lettin' ya steal somebody's car."

…

She grips the door as he increases speed. It isn't fair! All he has to do is plead and prattle on in French and she's like putty in his hands.

Her head hangs in shame. Did she really just sit there and watch him hot wire a car? They're driving around in a not-so-unnoticeable stolen vehicle like what they did was perfectly legal.

Remy seemingly has nothing on his conscience and giggles like a kid on Christmas. He's fallen in love with the flawless red paint and expensive interior. She rolls her eyes as he pats the steering wheel.

"It's only a matter of time before the police start followin' us." She hopes this will deter him from becoming any more excited.

"Nah. Dat was a strip club de man went into. I'd say we got at least an hour before he realizes what he's missin'."

"But we'll have it back before then, won't we?"

He swerves into the parking lot, nearly missing an old lady but not missing the orange cat to the side of her.

"Oh my God—"

"Whoops." He grimaces as he parks. "Don' look at me like dat!"

She slams the door and stomps into the store, he follows close behind.

"Don' be mad—"

"Ya just killed a cat!" She huffs and grabs a basket.

"I thought y' hated cats?"

"That's not the point," she answers tiredly. She fills the basket with three whole packages of bacon, some vegetables and some other things they're in need of.

Remy helps her when she asks. He doesn't have the strength to tell her they won't be using any of this, and that by this time tomorrow, they'll be back at the Mansion—

"Did ya hear me?"

His gaze snaps up from his feet to her face. "Uh—"

She's waiting in a check out lane. "Ah said you'll be _payin' _for the groceries." None of the people around them have any inkling of her meaning.

He forces a grin and reaches in his back pocket. Why pay for things they don't even need?

The cashier takes his card in a daze, blushing at his good looks.

Remy winks at 'Abigail'. Her face isn't anything special but her body makes up for it. "Lovely weather we're havin'."

"It's thirty degrees," Rogue deadpans. Her face is getting hot and silly insecurities pick at her. Remy is a natural flirt, that's all. It doesn't mean anything—

Abigail giggles anyway. "Well I love the winter."

"Especially when y' have someone to cuddle up to, _non_?"

The belle's teeth grind together. How dare he? Flirting with the woman like she isn't even there. Is this how it was with the other women, too? Is this what he did before he slept with them?

Abigail blushes, playing with a lock of sandy blonde hair. "Yes. And my apartment gets so cold at night—"

Rogue's green eyes flash to him expectantly. The girl is basically asking him to sleep with her. It's no longer harmless flirting. He would stop it now.

He frowns with false concern. "Don' y' have anyone dere with y'?"

"Who says she needs a person?" Rogue cuts in and pinches Remy's arm, hard. "Why not get some extra blankets? Ah saw some on sale."

Abigail looks at her like she's an idiot, and Remy only chuckles. "I t'ink yo' a bit tired, _chère_. Why don' y' go wait in de car?"

Her left temple throbs as her mind connects with the engine. It's simple: break a few valves, let the gas leak, create a little fire…and voila.

There's a horrible explosion. The clientele and customers scream and cower. Bits of smoking car parts break the windows.

Remy reacts in a split-second and throws himself over the belle, shielding her body with his own.

"What car?" she retorts in his ear. Her tone is spiteful, not his _chère _at all.

She shoves him off, and somehow finds Abigail in all the confusion. Her yellow eyes burn in fury as she rises from the ground and floats towards the scared girl.

He tries to reach her in time. "_Non_! Stop!"

But it's too late.

_And if they send a whirlwind, I'd hug it like a harmless little tree. Or an earthquake, I'd calm it, and I'd bring you back to me. And I'd hold you in my weak arms like a first born. I'd Walk Through Hell for you, let the torturing ensue. Now I've Walked Through Hell for you, what's an adventurer to do, but rest these feet at home with you? ~A Walk Through Hell- Say Anything._

_

* * *

_

**December 28, 2010: **Edited chapter 4 is here! **aiRo25 **did her thing once again and corrected grammar, spelling, and the like. Other changes include: French words being put in _italics _and a few minor changes in regards to quotations. Nothing that directly effects the plot of the story has been changed.


	5. Summer Shudder

Summer Shudder

_Listen when I say, when I say it's real. Real life goes undefined, why must you be so miscible? Everything you take, makes me more unreal. Real lines are undefined. How can this be so miserable? Under the summer rain, I burnt away. Under the summer rain (Burn!) You turned away. Listen I can't make, make a sound or feel. Feel fine I kissed the lies, why must they be so kissable? ~ Summer Shudder- AFI_

**Cairo, Egypt. 2005.**

She takes another dainty sip, and he can't stop the thoughts that form at the movement of her lips. She is classy, this one. The way she moves, the way she speaks, so polite. It's as if the unrelenting heat has no effect on her. The proud tilt of her chin indicates that she is unconcerned with the drab wrap she wears.

She doesn't belong in a shady place like this; she is a Goddess in all meanings of the word.

"And so you see, Gambit-"—"

"Please, call me Remy."

Her demeanor remains cool and professional. "And so you see, _Remy_, I've been through much of the same things as you. I understand what it's like to have to steal to survive!"

He takes a sloppy drink from his mug and swishes it around in his mouth. He isn't sure what it's called, but it got him drunk quickly and that's what matters.

"_Chère_, Remy don' have to steal for food anymore. Remy steals cause he wanna steal."

He notices the slight downturn of her mouth; she's disgusted and he isn't surprised. A woman like her could never understand someone like him. Thieving is no longer a necessity, it's a pleasure. It gets him off.

He knows every curve and part of the place he is robbing like he knows a woman's body. It's almost an obsession; he has to be the best at thieving because if he doesn't have that—what _does _he have? And he _is_ the best. Many have heard of the infamous 'Gambit', and many do all they can to contract him. This is why he's here now, in the hottest place on Earth.

Even so, a bit of shame buzzes at the back of his brain. She obviously sees him now as the scum beneath her shoes.

He pulls a deck of cards from his pocket and spreads them across the tabletop.

"Care t' play?"

Her blue eyes narrow as he shuffles. "Mr. LeBeau-"—"

"Ah, ah, ah," he corrects with a wink. "_Mr_. LeBeau is my good-for-nothin' father. Y' call me Remy."

"Remy I wish you would take this seriously. What we're offering is not to be taken lightly. Charles Xavier is a wonderful man who—"

"If he's so wonderful, why'd he send y' here? If what y' told me is true, dis city holds a lotta pain for y'. Sounds kind of cruel, _non_?"

He deals the cards.

"That's _completely_ irrelevant," she snaps. "But if you must know, I _chose_ to do this mission." She takes another sip of her sweet-smelling tea. "I cannot be scared of this place forever. I'm _tired_ of being scared." Her blue eyes go through him then; her mind is elsewhere.

His jaw tightens imperceptibly. Her comment had hit a little too close to home. If only he could be as brave as she.

"So lemme get dis straight: dere's an insanely rich man who opens his home up to random mutants an' wants nothin' in return?" He snorts, "T'ings dat sound too good to be true usually are, p'tite."

"Your hesitation is understandable."

To his surprise, she gathers her hand and fans the cards expertly. "But from what I hear, you are a man who enjoys taking risks."

"Danger is _mon deuxième prénom."_**(1)**

"All he asks is that you fight the good fight and help achieve his dream, and in return you get _freedom._ A chance to start anew. He doesn't care about your history, what you've done or who you were!"

"An' what if I'm still dat person?" He makes the first move. "Remy's past has a habit of catchin' up wit him."

Ororo tries not to get caught in his tragic eyes, and lays down a card. For only a split second his mask had wavered, and he looked as scared and lost as a child.

She didn't expected to feel so much sympathy for this man. In fact, up until this meeting she'd despised the mutant known as 'Gambit'. The X-Men know of his connections with Sinister and even his role in the Morlock Massacre.

She waits for the anger to boil at the thought of that atrocity. All those bodies strewn carelessly across the filthy ground. The screams that still echoed off the walls—

But it doesn't come, all she feels is pity for him. Despite her effort, she finds herself staring into his haunting eyes; they glow against the smoky backdrop of the bar.

Charles had only managed to gain a few pages of information to start a file on Gambit, no, of Remy LeBeau; there isn't much. What is there is a gruesome string of heartache and terrible event after terrible event.

She can't even imagine what this poor boy has gone through in his short life. Twenty-three years old, two years younger than herself, and already he's known more pain and anguish than anyone could deserve. She'd been lucky. Sure, her parents had died while she was young, and life on the streets wasn't easy, but Charles came and ended her misery, showing her what true happiness really was.

The feeling had been hiding the entire time, from the first second she sat down to speak with him, but something had caused her to ignore it.

That is no longer the case, and it hits her full on. Her heart pounds; her face feels hot. She must leave. She can't be here! She can't be feeling this way!

She bolts upright on her unsteady knees, causing the cards to flutter every which way and the cups to spill across the table. She hands him a small, white business card.

"Please contact us if you change your mind." She pulls her hood over her head and then she's gone.

"Wait!" Remy reaches out to stop her but she's quicker than he expected.

He runs after her through the crowded streets. The sun beats down on him harshly, and dust from the ground makes his eyes water. Even the 'Ragin' Cajun' can't handle heat this intense and unforgiving.

He spots her entering an alley. He sprints but when he reaches it, she's no where to be found.

Storm glides through the air up above. Her mind still remains clouded and her chest spasms.

For a moment she hovers, and, as if having an extra sense, Remy turns and looks directly into her eyes. A minute goes by with them just staring; there is understanding in his smile. He raises a hand to wave.

She doesn't acknowledge him, but they are both aware of the smile she hides as she turns and soars away.

Ororo muses during her flight. No matter what, even if he joins tomorrow, she'll stop this feeling. She'll have her emotions back under control; it's what she's always done and Remy LeBeau will not be her undoing.

She could have no way of knowing that it will be another two years before Remy shows up at the mansion, and that she'll be just in love with him then as she is now.

...

No one would call Remy LeBeau anything less than extremely clever, and his wits do not desert him as he enters the pitch-black bungalow.

Someone is here with him, and he isn't naïve enough to let himself believe it's Storm come to seduce him. And as he reaches to retrieve his pack, the cold blade of a knife presses against the sensitive flesh of his throat.

He can't help but smirk, instantly recognizing the womanly figure pressed against his back. She is thinner, but he'll never forget the shape of her breasts.

"It took y' a whole year dis time. Y' losin' y' touch, Belle."

She adds pressure to the knife until a thin line of blood forms, then whips away from him without so much as a word. There is a burning line across his neck from where the metal was against his flesh, and he thinks he feels droplets of blood sliding over his throat and gathering in the collar of his duster.

He turns to find the nozzle of a gun in his direct vision. For only a second, unadulterated fear makes his entire frame go slack and cold sweat to break across his skin.

He manages to regain his composure and tears his eyes from the gun to her cold, violet eyes. They've changed. There is no longer any warmth in them, only desperation. Infinite, all-consuming desperation.

"I don' t'ink I've ever seen y' really get scared before, _mon amour_."

He begins to notice other things about her. How thin she's become, how tight her skin stretches across her cheekbones. The once-beautiful woman looks like a victim of botched plastic surgery.

"What happened to y', Belle?" he murmurs. There's sincere concern in his voice.

She cackles, lowering the gun. "_You_ happened, Remy LeBeau. Y' waltzed into my life and ruined it, den waltzed right back out."

He opens his mouth to speak, but she shoves the gun against his chest.

"_Mais_ now I'm here to take back control!" Her hands tremble so much he fears she might shoot him before she finishes what she has to say. But the hatred she is emitting lets him know it probably wouldn't sadden her very much.

"Y' ruined my life! Y' killed my brother an' de grief of his death killed _mon pere_. Den y' just…left me! No apology, no goodbye, not even a fuckin' post card!"

He shakes his head sympathetically. "Belle, y' know I was exiled, I couldn't have any communication wit anyone—"

"Bullshit," she sneers. "Maybe y' could fool a stranger, _mais_ I know y'. Y' famous for gettin' round de rules. Five minutes, five minutes was all I asked! Jus' to know where y' were goin', jus' to know y' really were sorry!"

She looks towards the window; the moon shines in her eyes. He can tell she's reminiscing about pain and heartache.

"I'd known from de very beginnin' y' didn't really love me, even though I liked to pretend. I thought dat maybe you'd change y' mind, maybe I could tame y', _mais_ I was wrong."

Remy listens intently. She's obviously distracted, he could have disarmed her and escaped with his life, but he can't. Belle has been tracking him down for years, and she keeps finding him time after time, but this night is different. Before, there had always been some sort of feeling in her eyes; she never really tried her hardest to kill him, and he'd always gotten got away.

Tonight is different. He knows he won't be able to joke his way out, or seduce her, or simply fight her off. Tonight Belle wants him as dead as her heart is.

Resolving what she was is about to do, Belle straightens her shoulders and looks him right in the eyes, he wants to squirm at her intruding gaze.

"Y' a selfish _petit garçon_, Remy LeBeau. It may not be now, it may not be twenty years from now, _mais_ someday de God y' don' believe in is gonna make y' pay. Someday de lord Lord is gonna hurt y' like you've hurt so many people."

The gun moves slowly, unfocused memories swarm around him. Tante, he'll never see Tante again. And the beautiful, blue-eyed Storm, would she wonder what had happened to him? Probably not, because what Belle said is true: he isn't worth it. All he does is hurt and steal and ruin.

Would anyone care? Would Henri try to avenge his death?

His eyes clamp shut, and he feels no shame at his cowardice. The sound of a gunshot—then blood spattering all around him, the smell of it, the taste as some of it lands on his lips.

He waits for the pain; it never comes and when he opens his eyes to look at her, he knows why.

She'd never intended to kill him, no, because death would be an escape—she wanted him to suffer for the rest of his life. The gun was pointed at her own temple. It is her blood that oozes across the floor, her skull that is shattered and broken, her heart that will never beat again.

The man shakes harshly and falls to his knees.

Blood, so much blood. Pints and pints of blood. How could he clean up all this blood? There's too much of it.

The night of Julien's death comes back to choke him. It was an accident, he was only fighting for his life. He hadn't meant for the knife to go in Julien's stomach; he didn't mean to kill him!

He didn't mean to kill Belle either, but here she is: quite literally a shell of the woman she used to be. Of the fiery little girl who had fought by his side in a rat-infested alleyway. Of the glowing lover who was willing to give everything, even knowing she wouldn't receive his all in return. Of the hopeful bride who had no idea that before the wedding commenced she would lose her brother, lover, and sanity.

There was blood that night, too.

Remy feels the weight of his ex-wife's words. He is damned, truly and completely damned.

There is so much blood, too much of it.

So much blood. Pints and pints of blood.

_Listen as I break, break the fourth wall's seal. Gorgeous eyes shine suicide. When will we be invisible? Under the summer rain, I burnt away. Under the summer rain (Burn!) We find a way. Under the summer rain, I burnt away. Under the summer rain (Burn!) You turned away. This is the fall, this is the long way down. And our lives look smaller now, and our lives look so small. Willingly crying. ~Summer Shudder-AFI_

**Present Day New York.**

So much blood. Pints and pints of blood.

The human brain is a powerful, incredible thing. It is the most evolved on Earth, yet no one can say it is infallible. Sometimes there are defects, and sometimes, an event can cause the brain to give out for a moment altogether.

Remy's brain did just this. The happenings before his eyes don't register in his mind and so he can't acknowledge them. It just isn't possible. Rogue's arm didn't reach out towards the girl. The girl's eyes didn't bulge out of their sockets and pop with a sickening sound. The girl's head didn't swell and eventually explode. Bits and pieces of skull and brain matter didn't project themselves all over him. Blood isn't spraying from the girl's neck; her body isn't flopping. Rogue didn't smirk during the entire ordeal.

There is too much blood. The girl's thin body couldn't have held so much of it! It is everywhere; on the floors, the wall, himself…

Who would clean all this up? There is too much for one person, and it has already started seeping into the cracks of the floor; it will be there forever. No amount of cleaner can ever remove it.

His mind begins to speed up and he can no longer block it out. He shakes violently and turns to find her staring him down coldly.

Her form is hazy due to all the smoke, but her metallic eyes show through clearly, like two headlights in the fog.

No, not Rogue at all. How could he even think his c_hère _could do something like this? She is good, she is pure—

"_Do you see what happens when you hurt her?"_

Her voice echoes in his head. She is speaking with her mind; he knows this only because her voluptuous lips remain still, in a harsh line.

She turns away, and he soon loses sight of her.

Minutes pass by. The screams have gotten louder; he hears sirens. He has the decency to get on his knees and pray for the dead girl, though what the prayers of a Hell-bound soul can do, he isn't sure. He wonders if God would listen to someone like him.

Things lose the numbness. The girl is really dead; she'd been decapitated in mere seconds. Rogue's face didn't change…but no, it wasn't Rogue.

He can smell the burning chunks of brain all over. He then proceeds to vomit over and over again.

...

He returns to the motel looking haggard and pale. He'd already stripped off his soiled clothes as he made the long walk from the destroyed grocery store to here. He doesn't know how he isn't frostbitten; he doesn't know how no one saw him.

But none of that matters now. All that matters is the hot shower he's preparing.

He gets the water as hot as possible, he can't even feel the burn of it on his skin. He scrubs hard, until his skin is raw. The water goes from red to pink to clear, and if there was anything left in his stomach it would be coming up.

He tries to clear his mind like he was taught years ago. It's not like he's never seen death before. In fact, he's been the cause of death on many occasions. So why is this so hard? Is it because it's his c_hère _who committed the crime? She is so good, so pure… No, not Rogue—Phoenix, he corrects himself another time. He couldn't can't let himself think like that. Rogue would never… Rogue.

Dear God, why is he avoiding her? She is probably a wreck, she probably needs him.

He shuts the water off and curses under his breath. As usual, he was only thinking of _his _feelings and _his _pain. She must be devastated. At least when he'd committed the unforgivable crimes of murder, he'd been in control, he'd known what he was doing. Killing that girl wasn't even Rogue's choice!

He throws a towel around his waist and rushes into the bedroom, yearning to take her in his arms and ease her troubles.

To his horror, his southern lover is no where to be found.

...

He finds her in the back of a club, drenched to the bone from snow and something sticky, like blood. She's shivering, so he takes his coat off and drapes it over her.

She looks up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Ah'm so glad ya found me!"

He smiles and gathers her in his arms. They make their way to his expensive-looking car and he comforts her while driving, telling her they'll be there soon and she can take a nice, hot bath.

She buries her face in his neck, and suddenly she loves him with all of her heart.

He carries her inside the building and to the elevator, ignoring the looks people give them. She continues placing soft kisses on his cheeks and jaw and neck. He holds her tighter and kisses her back.

They reach the door and he pulls out a key to unlock it. He carries her right to the bathroom, showing her how to work the controls, and where the body wash and shampoo were. He helps her undress; his eyes go over her lustfully.

He moves to leave and she clings to him.

"Don't leave me," she whispers in his ear, making him shiver delightfully.

He explains to her that he's going to make her a hot meal, and that he'll come right back as soon as the food is in the oven. This does not please her, but she doesn't argue and let's herself sink into the pool of hot water.

The bubbles come up to her neck and she begins to spread soap over her body. She lathers the shampoo into her long hair and rinses it with a sigh. This felt feels good, so good. Good enough to allow her to forget what she did only an hour ago.

Phoenix helps with the forgetting aspect as well.

He returns to the bathroom with hunger in his smile. He never takes his gaze off of her as he undresses and eases into the Jacuzzi. He presses their naked bodies together and takes her breasts in his hands.

She whimpers and his blue eyes spark. His hands go all over her body; she decides that this human knows what he is doing.

The man looks down at her startled. Weren't her eyes green before? But he soon loses this concern as her tongue slides in his mouth and her fingers comb through his curly, brown hair. Passion makes both of their hearts quicken, she is overcome with sensation and emotion. His lips break from hers and go to her neck, to her breasts, to her flat stomach, and then finally fall to the place below her navel.

She gasps and arches towards his hot mouth. "Jono…" She murmurs his name under her breath.

She knows his name. He doesn't remember giving it to her, but then again he was so distracted by her beauty he'd probably forgotten.

His tongue and lips work her into orgasm after orgasm. He rises and runs his finger across her temple. "How do you feel?" There's a hint of arrogance in his tone, but she's far from caring.

"I feel _empty._ Can you fix that for me?"

He could have sworn she'd had a southern accent…but he's too far gone to question her. The look she is giving him is almost enough for him to come right then and there.

But he isn't going to end this so soon, he wants to savor the taste and feel of her. It was obvious from her state when he'd first found her that she is probably some kind of prostitute, but he is no stranger to their kind.

He kisses her again, telling her to be patient while he fetches a condom.

She pouts when he leaves her to reach in the pantry. She wants to feel this human in every sense of the word; she doesn't want a silly, human contraceptive dulling the sensation of having him inside of her. She tells him this and he laughs.

"I apologize, baby doll. But until we get you tested I'm afraid we'll have to use these." He winks at her and helps her from the tub and into his arms. She commences kissing him as he takes her to his bedroom.

He lays her down on the lush sheets.

"You're going to enjoy this, baby doll."

She smirks and silently agrees. But before he can enter her and before she can let herself get lost in orgasm, a sharp cry explodes in her head.

For a moment her vision gets fuzzy. It's Remy. He's used his empathy to try and find her and he'd felt her pleasure and her orgasm and he _knows…_

John's mouth falls open and he pulls away as her eyes switch back to emerald. "What the—"

Rogue sobs as soon as she breaks the surface and panic seizes her. "Where am Ah? Who are ya? Where's Remy?"

He tries to restrain her, but her eyes go back to gold and he feels something invisible wrap around his throat. Colored spots dance across his vision and the grip is too strong to fight.

He suffocates within minutes.

Rogue fights for control and screams as his body falls to the wooden floor with a 'thud.' In her desperation, she somehow connects with Remy telepathically. She senses his hurt, his devastation, his powerful jealousy. She cries for him and tries to let him know where she is. She begs for him to come get her, to save her—

And things cease to connect and consciousness leaves her.

**October 1998.**

Her Aunt Irene is blind: that and her immense wealth is about all Rogue knows about her. She is her Mama's sister and, despite her disability, seems very clever indeed.

She shows up at their front door a week before Halloween. Rogue is putting up decorations when she hears the doorbell ring and Daddy get up to answer it. She leaves her place on the window and jumps down to peek through the rungs on the staircase.

The woman is beautiful, with short reddish hair and a thin, but healthy body. She wants to see her eyes, but tinted glasses cover them.

Rogue can tell by the stiffening of Daddy's shoulders and the harshness of the pretty woman's words that the two do not get along.

Suddenly, the woman turns to Rogue's hiding place and smiles. "My, my. Look how pretty you've gotten! Just like your mother." Irene looks at Daddy when she says this. Something like guilt mars his features.

"Marie, honey, this is your Aunt Irene. Come say Hello."

Rogue dismounts the stairs shyly and shuffles over to the aunt she's seen once, maybe twice in her whole entire life.

"Hello." She lets her aunt hug her. She decides it feels kind of nice.

How long has it been since her Father held her without that burning look in his eyes?

"I would like to take you out for ice cream, Marie. How does that sound?"

It sounds great, but she turns to her father to gauge his reaction. He nods tightly, and she grins big and wide.

"I would like that a lot, Aunt Irene!"

She smiles softly. "Just call me 'Irene,' darling. Bring your coat with you, it's a little chilly."

Rogue nods eagerly and rushes to the closet to retrieve her jacket.

Daddy kisses her on the cheek when they move to leave. She sees Irene frown. Does her Aunt somehow know?

Shame makes her cheeks redden as a man helps she and Aunt Irene to the limo. Would Aunt Irene stop liking her if she knew the way Daddy touches her? Would Aunt Irene think she's dirty?

She bows her head and pinches her knees.

"Your father tells me you like going by 'Rogue.' Why is that?"

"Ah found a picture of me and Mama a long time ago. It was when Ah was just born, and she was holdin' me. On the back it said, 'Me an' my little Rogue.' Ah've liked it ever since."

Irene laughs. "Your mother was something, I loved her very much." Her face falls and she looks down at Rogue. "Do you know how she died, Rogue?"

The girl nods sadly. "She died in a car accident when Ah was just a baby."

The flash of anger on Irene's face scares her.

"So that's what the bastard told you," she mutters under her breath.

It's a long time before Aunt Irene speaks again. "All your mother ever wanted was for you to be happy. Are you happy, Rogue?"

They reach the ice cream shop. She knows the answer she should give, the answer a good little Christian girl would give, but it isn't the truth. And doesn't the Lord want all his children to tell the truth? But God wants all girls and boys to listen to their parents… so what is she supposed to do?

With each day Daddy gets more and more heated. He doesn't only touch her at bath time anymore, or when she goes to sleep. It is happening in the morning, in the middle of the day, when she goes potty.

His movements are getting more and more aggressive. Daddy doesn't just want to touch her anymore, he wanted her to touch him, too. Sometimes he pulls out his thing and shoves it in her mouth.

She hates the taste of it. She puked once, but he punished her and so she taught herself to swallow it back.

How much longer will it be before Daddy hurts her more? She isn't exactly sure how 'it' works because Daddy forbids inappropriate TV shows, books, and even took her out of class when the teachers began explaining nasty things like bleeding and such; but she knows things can and will get worse.

"Yes, Aunt Irene." She chokes on her tears, and her lies, and looks out the tinted window instead of at the concerned woman next to her.

"I think you're trying to save him, Rogue."

She knows the 'him' Irene refers to.

"You have to think about yourself, my darling. You have to understand that what he does to you isn't okay, it's disgusting and it's all his fault, not yours."

"Ah wanna go home," she wails, feeling her Aunt pull her close.

"Oh you poor, poor thing." She feels Irene's tears. "Please let me take you away from here, please let me take away the pain, Rogue!"

She mulls over her Aunt's words. Happiness, no more pain. Daddy would never be able to touch her again and she'd never have to touch him.

She gives a little nod. "Please, don't let him hurt me anymore."

They get on a plane the next day, to go live in Aunt Irene's big blue house. She gets all new clothes and toys, and as she lays lies down in her new bed the first night, Rogue knows she can sleep without fear for tomorrow.

**Present Day.**

When she wakes, she's back in the motel. Remy has dressed her in sweats.

She sits up and finds him in the chair, watching her. His red eyes glow starkly against the dark room.

"How did ya find me?" she asks, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

"Y' somehow connected with me telepathically. Y' seem to be gettin' pretty good at dat lately."

His tone is like a slap in the face.

Like a knee-jerk reaction, she instantly begins trying to glue things together and make it all whole again. "Ah didn't know what was happenin'. Ah didn't mean to—Ah'm so sorry, Remy. Ah don't remember any of it, ya know Ah would never—" Suddenly her words sound stale in her own ears.

He grinds his teeth together and the sound of it causes an ache at the base of her neck. She notices he'd been playing solitaire on his lap.

"Are you apologizin' for shovin' yourself in my mind, or for fuckin' another _homme_?"

There have been very few times when Remy terrifies the belle, and this is one of them. He's so very pale and his face seems strained, like he could fall apart at any moment. His rage rolls off him in waves; he's going to snap at any moment.

"Gotta say, I'm a little disappointed. Y' killed him before I got de chance."

She smothers her cry with her hand and turns her head to weep silently. She'd killed him? She'd taken took _another_ human being's life? Rogue was nearly destroyed when she'd killed accidentally. Taking even one life in her lifetime was too much for her. But two lives in one night? What has she done? What has she let the thing inside of her do?

"Remy, ya have to believe me. Ah didn't know what was goin' on!"

He doesn't speak; he doesn't even move. His lack of animation unnerves her.

"Do ya think ah Ah wanted to kill them? Ah would never want—" She stops because she knows her words are having no effect on him. His mind is made up. He is furious with her.

"Ah know ya don't care, but for what it's worth, Ah didn't have sex with him." Something akin to peanut butter coats the inside of her throat and mouth.

She swallows and watches him carefully. Is that begrudging relief she sees?

"I was out lookin' for y'. I was crazy wit' worry. I blamed myself for lettin' y' run off. I knew how unstable y' were, an' I kept t'inkin' dat if I found y', I'd never let y' go again.

"I opened my shields to use my empathy. I hoped that I'd be able to pick up on your aura, _mais_ I should have known it wouldn't work. We were too far apart, an' dere were too many people in between us."

He runs his hands through his hair and down his chiseled face. "I was a mile away from y' when I started gettin' de images. It wasn't pleasant. It was like dey were shovin' demselves into my head, I thought I was gonna explode, just like dat girl-"—"

Rogue gasps and part of him wants to apologize, but he's glad that she's hurting, because he's hurting too.

"I was fearin' for my life. Den I started to actually _look_ at what was bein' put in my mind. It, it almost…" He shakes his head, she begins to cry softly.

She feels the bed drop under his weight when he sits. Just his presence chills her.

"I knew it was her tryin' to hurt me. At first I let myself pretend it wasn't real. But eventually, I had to admit it was de truth. I couldn't bear de thought of another _homme_—" Again he's forced to pause. Going any further would make him more vulnerable than he already is.

His hand clamps, then relaxes on his thigh. She knows it's one of the few shows of pain he'll allow her to see.

"_Mais_ I knew it was what I deserved. How many times had I hurt y' like dat?"

He's descending into all too familiar territory: self-persecution. He'll lose himself in it if she doesn't do something to prevent it.

"Remy, it's not your fault."

His lips press against her salty cheek; it's anything but loving. His frigid kiss tells her what he cannot say.

"When I got dere, I was ready to kill him, _mais_ he was already gone. From what I could tell, he hadn't been able to get dat far wit y', _mais_ I couldn't be sure."

"Sugah—"

"I shoved some alcohol down his throat and made it look like suicide."

Her stomach tilts. He talks about this like it's nothing. Like he's done it before—because he has done it before, hasn't he?

She pulls away from his chilly embrace and rises to her feet. He stands close behind. She's giving him exactly what he craves: more judgement. He's a glutton for punishment and the more people he turns against him, the more he pushes—the better. He thinks he deserves to be alone and wants, _needs_, her to think it too.

"Y' were so beautiful."

"Stop it," she seethes in a whisper. "Stop doin' this to yourself, stop doin' this to _us_."

His arms snake around her waist; his hot breath tickles the back of her neck.

"I know now dat you'd never do somethin' like dat, to me, even though I deserve it. I promise y', I'll never doubt y' again."

She wonders if he's being sarcastic. "Ah'm not perfect, Remy. Please don't think Ah am."

"But y' are! Rogue can never do anyt'ing wrong—didn't y' know? De perfect teammate, de perfect friend. Can y' do _anyt'ing_ wrong, _chère_?"

"_Please._"

But his eyes are not his eyes and jealousy, terror, and rage are making him insane. He's working himself into a state.

"Not at all like me, _non_?" He sinks his teeth into the flesh of her earlobe and it's all she can do not to cry out, to run away. "Cause y' all know how unworthy I am, how _bad_."

She whips around and pushes against his chest. "Remy, stop!" She weeps harshly. "Can't ya ever just be happy? Why won't ya let things be?"

He smiles and pulls back from her. "Because I ruin, _chère_."

And she knows she's never heard anything more true.

_This is the fall, this is the long way down. And our lives look smaller now, and our lives look so small. Under the summer rain, I burnt away. Under the summer rain (Burn!) We find a way. Under the summer rain, I burnt away. Under the summer rain (Burn!)We find a way. Under the summer rain (Burn!) I burnt away. Under the summer rain (Burn!) You turned away…~ Summer Shudder- AFI _

**(1)**_mon deuxième prénom _- my middle name

**October 2011: **So this chapter ended a lot differently than the original version. I don't know why, but when I started tweaking the scene it took on a life of it's own and I realized that maybe the reason I was so unhappy with the first version is because it didn't feel right. These two can never let things go very easily.

Millions of dollars worth of thanks to **Scribblemyname**. She works miracles, folks, really and truly.


	6. Burning For You

**This is a re-make of the song 'Burning For You' by Blue Oyster Cult. Both versions are incredible.**

Burning For You

_Home in the valley, home in the city. Home isn't pretty, ain't no home for me. Home in the darkness, home on the highway. Home isn't my way, home will never be. Burn out the day, Burn out the day. Burn out the night, Burn out tonight. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. ~Burning For You-Shiny Toy Guns_

**August 2006.**

He was an outrageous flirt. Cocky, obnoxious, and a thief to boot. That little smirk he flashed oh-so often was obviously a sign of danger. His hypnotic, fiery eyes were always chock full of mirth, but he never cared to explain what was so funny all the damn time. And to top it all off, he was known as the mansion's raging slut. Everyone saw him stumble in each night with a different girl on his arm. They all heard the said girls' exclamations of ecstasy, further cementing the rumors that Remy Lebeau knew how to work every centimeter of a woman's body.

So why is she here?

Why did she drop six hundred bucks on this dress a day after he asked her out? Sure, it was amazing. It was damn amazing, actually. Steamy sexy. She'd somehow managed to find something that fit her like a glove, no pun intended, bared her cleavage, and that covered her deadly skin, all at the same time! At least she could use this dress again, though. That was a decent excuse.

But spending _three hours_ on getting her hair to curl just right was completely ridiculous! And re-doing her make up _seventeen_ times was even worse! But she supposes it was worth it. She looked good, real good, the swamp rat hadn't been able to take his eyes off her the entire night. And that was saying something for a man who checked out _literally_ every woman that passed by.

Of course he wasn't looking too shabby himself. When wasn't he looking hot as Hell? All the man had to do was roll out of bed and it was enough to make any woman cry- she however, isn't just any woman.

So what if he'd slicked his hair back, giving him the look of a character from a romance novel? And did he think it was sexy to leave the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone? Cause it wasn't, no sir.

In fact, the more she studies him, the more she wonders what the big deal is. There were plenty of men like Remy: who had the body of a God, the face of a model, the absorbing, spellbinding voice of a jazz singer, and seducing, demonic orbs of red and black. Lots of men had eyes like his.

She tosses back another shot, wondering how he'd afforded renting out a private room in a restaurant like this. He probably stole it! Yeah, that was it, he stole an entire room…

She'd drank too much, she's flirting too much. Dear Lord, she had her arm draped over his shoulder, hanging onto his every word. When had he scooted his chair next to hers? She was practically sitting in his lap! His hand was on the small of her back, he was leaning dangerously close-

"Ah'm not stupid," she slurs, interrupting whatever he was saying.

He raises an eyebrow. "Never said y' were-"

She nearly falls over when she attempts to stand, and Remy, conveniently ignoring her chair, places her on his leg instead.

"Ya didn't _need _to say anything, shuga. It's what ya _do_."

He can't help but laugh at her rosy cheeks and the grin she gives him as she 'sneaks' and finishes off his glass. Never had he seen the mansion's resident ice queen so…warm.

"For someone who's not legal yet, y' sure know how to take 'em back, chere."

She waves him off. "Ah knew from the moment ya stepped through the door just what kinda man ya were."

"Oh?" He rests his chin on his fist in mock seriousness. "An' what kind of man is dat?"

"A _player._ Not just cause yoah a whore either, but because ya treat everythin' in life as a game, includin' this date. Ah'm a challenge to ya. Just like all the danger room sessions you've set records for, just like all the poker games ya manage to win."

Remy mulls over what she says, he obviously wasn't expecting anything remotely close to that coming from her, and she feels joy in knowing she _finally _caught Gambit off guard. He looked a little ashamed, even. But she wasn't done.

"The flirtin', the roses, the candy, the moon-lit serenades from under my balcony- ah knew the whole time what ya were tryin' to do."

He frowns deeply. He'd worked his ass off trying to woo the belle. For months he'd been practically begging her to go out with him. _Months. _Remy Lebeau never spent months on a woman! But then again, Rogue was unlike any woman he'd ever met. Getting her to like him had been all fun and games in the beginning, so why is he so deeply disappointed now? And why did he look forward to the scowls she sent his way, or laugh inwardly with glee every time they got into one of their little quarrels? Why did he seethe with jealousy whenever she and that Russian boyfriend of hers went out? If he's completely honest with himself, it smarts a little to know she didn't take any of it seriously. The joke had been on him the entire time.

"What y' t'ink I was tryin' to do?"

"What ya _are_ tryin' to do," she corrects. "Yoah tryin' to win my heart of course, among the many ya already have."

If it hurts to know her true opinion of him he doesn't let it show.

And for another time their eyes connect. Again he licks his lips, again she feels herself sway.

"Maybe it would be a good idea to let ya kiss me," she murmurs. "A couple months in a coma would simmer ya down."

Remy leans closer. They're mere breaths apart and he shows no signs of fear.

His hands fall to her narrow waist. "Rogue-"

She pulls away from his dizzying spell and retreats to the other side of the table. This would never do! He was a snake, slithering under the walls she'd built, and he was going to cause them both a world of hurt.

She'd been foolish to think she could keep the situation under control. There was a definite attraction between herself and Remy, and it got even more tangible the longer they were in each other's presence. Which is why she should go, _now_.

She was going to call a cab and go home and sleep this off. She'd be able to think more clearly in the morning and then she'd be able to assess the situation for what it really was: Remy was trying to play her, and she wasn't going to allow that to happen.

"Please, don' go yet. Hear me out, hein?"

Yet again, his voice works its magic and she feels herself being lowered onto the chair.

He stands above her, drumming his fingers against his leg. He starts to pace from side to side, unable to stand still. Was the ragin cajun nervous?

"Everyt'ing y' said was true, well, at least it was at first. But I've been t'inkin' a lot lately, an'…deres not a reason why we couldn't, y' know, 'make it official'."

"Remy-"

"Non, let me finish. We have a good time together, we make each other laugh all de time. An' honestly, I'm tired of sleepin' around. It'd be nice to, to have someone waitin' for me when I come home at night, y' know?"

He finally looks at her and the brief flash of vulnerability she sees makes her sigh.

"Remy ah'm sorry, but ah can't be that person. We barley have a healthy friendship, we can't stand each other for more than five minutes-"

"Y' wrong, chere." He squares his shoulders determinedly. "Y' so wrong. I know it wouldn't be easy, mais we could make it work! If I changed an' y' learned to trust-"

This makes her angry. "So ah'm supposed to trust _you?_ The alcoholic one, the one who sleeps around, the one who gives me at least ten reasons why ah shouldn't trust him _every day?_"

She turns her bleary gaze to the floor.

"Ah don't love Piotr, anyone can see that. But it's uncomplicated, Remy. He doesn't ask for anythin' ah can't give, we have a lot in common so we never argue, and he's-he's-" She shrugs, grasping for the right word. "He's…_simple._ Ah can figure him out easily and ah never have to worry that there's somethin' he's hidin', because he's not."

His eyes flash angrily. "So basically y' sayin' y' a coward, an' you'd rather settle for less because it's _uncomplicated._" He snorts, "maybe y' not de femme I thought y' were."

She lowers her head to her hands. "-too many-"

Her voice is too thick for him to understand.

"I can't hear y'."

She brings her head up, her emerald eyes are glossy with tears. "Ah've been hurt too many times. Ah can't-ah can't be hurt again."

The anger on his face is instantly replaced with a pleading look, and he kneels next to her.

"Have y' ever thought dat maybe you'd hurt me? Dat maybe I'd be de one who gave everythin' an' got nothin' back? Mais chere it doesn't _have _to be dat way!"

She looks at him then. How wonderful it'd be, if life were so simple. If maybe she and Remy could make something out of nothing.

"Ah could go on and on about why we shouldn't be together, but ah'm drunk and tired and ah wanna go home."

He takes her delicate hand in his worn one, unwilling to let this subject go quite so soon.

"Have y' ever thought about it maybe workin' out? Have y' ever wanted to be wit me, chere? Ever?"

"No." _Liar, liar pants on fire._

He searches her eyes, and finding nothing but pity in them, swallows his desire and hope and arguments.

"Fine. I'll drop dis, for now."

"Drop it forever," she urges. "Don't bring it up again, Remy. My answer will always be the same."

He hides the pain this causes, and forces a smile. "Dats exactly what y' said when I asked y' out de first time, non?"

Frowning, he turns to look behind them, out on the patio.

"What's wrong?"

His eyes remained focused on the same spot, she turns to look but sees nothing.

"Y' hear dat?" He smiles wistfully. "S' a violin."

The belle strains her ears and soon she hears the enchanting melody as well.

"Y' wouldn't wan' to dance, would y'?"

His face was so open and hopeful. She knows she should say no, it'd be better to nip this in the bud and not give him any more encouragment- but it's of no use.

"Ah'd love to. But keep ya hands to yourself," she warns.

"Sure, chere," he chuckles and offers his hand. "Whatever y' say."

Grinning broadly, he leads her to the middle of the empty room and holds her tight. She uses him for support, and soon feels his lips in her hair. His warm breath hits her ear, and to her surprise, he neglects to make some remark about the shiver this causes.

Was it normal to feel this way about someone she so loathed? They would never work, never. Why get the ball rolling when it would only spin out of control in the end?

"Relax," he murmurs when he feels her stiffen. "I'll take care of y', Rogue, je promets."

"Ah can take care of myself," her chin juts out stubbornly.

"I know p'tite, mais it's nice to let someone protect y' once in a while, non?"

Her eyes flutter shut. He was too warm, too strong, too aware of how his words effected her. Because yes, she would like to be weak sometimes, she would like for him to shield her.

They look at each other in the dim light. Some emotion they can't explain envelopes them in undisturbed silence.

_I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. Time is the essence, time is the season. Time ain't no reason, got no time to slow. Time everlasting, time to play besides. Time ain't on my side, time I'll never know. Burn out the day, burn out the day. Burn out the night, burn out tonight. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. ~Burning For You- Shiny Toy Guns_

They look at each other in the dim light. Some emotion they can't explain envelopes them in undisturbed silence.

Maybe it was apprehension, or fear, or hatred. Maybe it was the rage that overcame him whenever he looked into those saffron eyes.

They should be green. A beautiful, crystal green that shone a dark emerald when she was angry or passionate, and that lightened to a jade color when she laughed.

That wasn't the woman he'd found laying next to him this morning. Somewhere in the night he'd lost his Chere for yet another time, and the tiny bit of patience he'd had with the thing inside of her has long since dried up.

She watches him from the chair. Her legs are crossed over the armrest. She curls a lock of hair and that mocking smirk she so favored was in place. Everything about her screamed cruelty and malice.

He stands on the other side of the dingy room, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed and his crimson orbs glowing dangerously. He was a patient man, but when it came to someone harming Rogue he had no sympathy. Phoenix had worn out her welcome hundreds of times over, and he was getting close to his limit. He didn't want things to reach a level of violence, especially since it was still Rogue's body, but she wasn't giving him many other options.

"I'm takin' her back. Today."

She giggles delightedly. "Is that right? I'm interested to see how you'll be pulling that off, seeing that I'm in control and all."

He leaves his spot against the wall and bends so he's directly in her face. "Lemme explain it for y'-" His hands go to each of her shoulders. "You're gonna give Rogue her body back, and I'm gonna take her home. De professeur is going enter her mind, an' you're gonna disappear forever. Comprenez?"

This makes her laugh even harder and she pats his cheek daintily. "Come on, Remy-poo. We both know you're smarter than that! I'm the most powerful being in this galaxy! Charles Xavier is incredibly powerful, but he's no threat to me by himself. And since both Jean Grey and Betsy Braddock are out of the picture, quite frankly, I can do whatever the Hell I want."

"Rogue will fight back, she won't let y' keep control forever. An' when you're weakened enough-"

"Then what? If you kill me you kill her, and you're too much of a weakling to ever even consider killing her."

This hits him hard and he backs up to sit on the bed. "Deres gotta be another way!" he shakes his head. "She won't die, she won'!"

She leaves the chair and levitates in front of him. "Of course she won't. You and I won't let her." She runs her fingers through his locks and lowers herself next to him.

"I almost killed you, and everyone in that house, you know."

He turns to her with a sneer. "An' why didn't y'?"

"Because she would have never forgiven me." She says simply.

He examines her closely, things start sliding into place. "You're, you're in love wit her!" he gasps in shock.

She nods and crosses her legs. "I suppose that's what humans would call this emotion I feel." The small amount of light that leaks through the blinds reflects in her eyes.

"I've tried to calculate exactly when my feelings about her changed. At first, she was just another vessel. But then-

"Then you showed up. It was when I first entered her and she slept a long time, do you remember?"

He swallows back the fear of those horrible three days. "How could I forget?"

"You were talking to her, like she could hear you. It amused me to see the love sick look on your face. But somehow, the effect of your voice was reviving her. I started listening to what you were saying. You spoke of heart break and pain and guilt, and love. Even I could see how much you loved this woman. It interested me.

"And so I decided to delve into her memories. What I found was, well, there aren't really words to describe it. I could see why you loved her, she'd been through so much, things _you_ don't even know about, and through it all, there still remains an undisturbed part of her. A purity, if you will."

She chuckles. "I tried to remain detached, but it was of no use. Soon I began communicating with her psyche and I…well, I fell in love with her. I knew I couldn't just destroy her, so instead, I opted to share this body with her.

"I began changing the landscape of her mind. I released the personalities of her psyches, enabling her to be able to use their gifts as she pleased without them driving her insane. I reconstructed the way she thought, so she could feel the touch of another human being. I've fused our minds together, so now she will have my powers, my immortality. She'll live forever."

A sudden excitement comes over her and she clasps his arm. "Don't you see? We'll never have to worry about her dying of old age, or disease, or injury! She'll remain young and beautiful for all time. And if she so chooses, I'll make you young forever, too. I tried persuading her to forget about you, but she cares for you deeply. Whatever she wants, she will get. I only want her to be happy."

He doesn't respond right away, he tries absorbing everything she'd told him instead. Finally, he looks at her.

"I t'ink y' know deep down inside dat what you're doin' is wrong. Rogue deserves a normal human life, she deserves to have a choice. She doesn't want y', Phoenix-"

Fury sparks in her eyes and before he can react he's flattened on the bed, invisible grips holding him down.

"The only reason I let you live is because of her! But do not test my limits, human!" She crawls from the end of the bed and straddles his hips. "Do you realize that everything you just accused me of, you are guilty of as well?"

He fights against the hold until sweat breaks across his body and his muscles throb. He shrinks away from her kiss, but he has no choice in the matter.

Truth rings loud and clear in what she says. He was just as bad for Rogue as she was.

He chooses to ignore this. It wasn't the same, it wasn't!

She forces her tongue through his teeth.

His initial reaction is quite apparent and she feels him in between her legs, hard and warm like a fist.

She groans and pulls him back by the hair, exposing more of his mouth and neck. "Take me, you know you want to!"

"You're not de one I-"

She slaps him harshly, his cheek begins to bruise instantly. "Fool!"

Her hand moves to strike again, but his skin glows fuchsia and she hesitates.

"I'll blow us both up."

She snorts. "Go right ahead. _I'll_ survive."

"True. Mais I won', an' you'll get to see de hatred in Rogue's eyes every time she looks at y'."

This gets a reaction out of her, and with a furious scream she dismounts him and releases her telekinetic hold.

He sighs with relief and sits up. He rubs his cheek and flexes his jaw.

"You're no good for her."

"Either are you."

"If y' really love her, you'll leave."

"Shall I remind you that you're still around?"

He's tired of the games, and not for the first time, he loses his cool and lets his temper loose. "Just let her go!"

She remains collected, and with a bitter smirk, ends the argument. "I will when you do, Remy-poo."

**December 2009.**

They'd just returned from another run-in with Phoenix, bruised and forlorn.

He and Rogue find each other in the den after showering and changing their clothes. She curls into a ball on the couch, the fireplace sends shadows across the walls.

The snow and wind seem to smack against the windows. The crackling fire reflects in her hauntingly beautiful eyes.

"Why y' do so much for her? Y' an' Jeannie have never been very close." There is suspicion in his voice, Rogue can see he feels guilty for that.

"Ah owe Jean so much more than ya could ever know, Remy." She rests her chin on her knees and looks him in the eyes, trying to make him understand.

But he doesn't want to. Because this had something to do with Scott, didn't it always?

"Chere, I know I've asked y' before…" He licks his lips nervously and silently pleads for patience. "Mais y' sure, y' an' Scott-you've never been more den friends, right?"

"Ah'm sure. He's like my big brother." She has to force the lies from her mouth.

He nods, slightly relieved. He makes himself believe that yes, Rogue would risk her own life a second time for Jean because Scott was a close friend. Rogue would never lie to him. Rogue was pure, honest.

Rogue was perfect.

"I just, I just don' wanna lose y'."

Tears form somewhere deep down but she keeps them at bay. "Ah have her heart," Is the only explanation she gives him.

He won't understand this until much later.

**Present Day.**

She begins packing the suitcase about an hour later. He hasn't moved from his place on the bed, he's too drained. Not from the struggle they'd had, or from the bruise on his face, but from the entire situation. He knows he has to be strong, that he can't just give up. But everything seemed so hopeless! How could the X-men fight her off? They hadn't been able to protect Jean from Phoenix, and Rogue wouldn't be any different.

Should he just give in? Should he try to make a life with Rogue around the being? After all, didn't they have everything they'd always wanted in the relationship? They could touch now, he wouldn't have to go to other women for comfort. She could trust him now, completely trust him. They had the promise of a future.

They could marry, they could have lots of babies. And if Phoenix stayed true to her word, they could love each other for all eternity.

He isn't even convincing himself with all this. He couldn't, _wouldn't_ share Rogue with that thing. He wouldn't let her live life through Rogue's body.

And in that moment Remy knows what he has to do.

"Did y' mean what y' said earlier? Dat you'd leave Rogue alone if I left?"

She pauses from her packing and looks at him. "Yes. But you'll never do it, you're too selfish." She goes back to her task.

"What are y' doin'?"

She brushes her hair back. "I sensed a telepathic scan about an hour ago. Xavier must have been using Cerebro when we had our little disagreement. I think he sensed the spike of your powers."

He shuffles a deck of cards lazily. "If y' so strong an' mighty, why y' runnin' from dem?"

She chooses to ignore his question. "I'm finished. Are you coming or not?"

The Queen of Hearts slips from the deck and flutters to the ground. He picks it up and traces its outline with his eyes. Memories flood his mind. Too many memories.

"Non. I'm catchin' a bus, an' you're stayin' right here."

Her eyes widen before she can compose herself. "You're bluffing."

"Remy don 'bluff' when it comes to his Chere." He begins shoving things in the bag by his feet.

"You're not going to leave her, you can't!"

He stands to his full height and looks down at her. "Close your eyes."

She grabs onto the lapels of his jacket. "Remy, listen to me, we can share her, okay? You don't have to do something this drastic! If you leave she'll be mad at me, so very mad. I'll have to leave, I don't want to leave, I love her!"

"An' y' t'ink dis is easy for me?!" He bites back his anger and resolves the decision in his mind. "Now close your eyes. Y' not Rogue, mais dis is probably de best I'm gonna get." He didn't want her to see this. He can't watch the tears she would shed, the helpless, betrayed look that would form in her eyes. He wouldn't be strong enough if she begged him to stay, he knows it.

And most of all, he doesn't want her to watch as his heart shatters into a million pieces. At least this way, she would think he'd just up and left out of sheer cowardice. The anger would keep her going, she could ignore missing him if she was too busy hating him.

He swallows his tears and with a little whimper of fear, Phoenix shuts her eyes.

He places a hand on her hip, and encircles her shoulders with his other arm.

"I love y', chere. So much. I should have done dis a long time ago, even though neither one of us wanted it."

He shakes his head and kisses her porcelain forehead. "I don' deserve you're love, never did. I knew dat from de beginnin', mais I'm selfish, chere. All I knew was dat y' made me happy, y' filled me up wit so much joy. It was like we were in our own little bubble, an' all de bad shit happenin' went right around us.

"I don' wanna leave, chere." His voice breaks and he trembles with the effort of keeping his emotions in check, he wouldn't cry in front of _her_.

"Mais she says she'll leave y' alone if I do. Y' can touch now, chere. Y' can have a happy life--" He can't speak anymore and so he pours his feelings into the kiss. It wasn't Rogue exactly, but he was used to pretending.

He pours his heart into the kiss, and when it ends his hands tremble.

He releases his hold on her and faces the door.

"Y' gave me y' word."

Her only response is to fall to her knees and weep.

He leaves and does not look back.

* * *

Rogue is furious when it emerges from the river. She's ready to scream at it, hit it, but then she sees its face.

Her golden eyes were wide and full of tears. Her face was blanched white.

A kind of premonition creeps up Rogue's spine. "What is it? What happened?"

It doesn't answer. Right before her eyes, it begins to lose shape and revert back to the ball of black mass it had once been.

Rogue is frenzied now. "What are ya doin'? Answer me!"

It floats closer, brushing against her cheek, images fill the space around her, she ignores them. Before she can even turn to it, it releases a wail and leaves her mind.

The force of it is so powerful it knocks her to the ground. She can _feel _the emptiness.

Phoenix was really and truly gone.

For some reason, her heart does not leap with joy at this realization. She jumps into the river, fearful of what she might find on the other side.

* * *

She can no longer ignore the images Phoenix gave her through that simple kiss on the cheek, and as she hears Remy's words and sees his departure, a low, painful moan escapes between her lips.

That idiot, that stupid, unthinking martyr!

Didn't he see that she'd choose him over sanity any day? Didn't he realize that without him, she'd be more insane and lost than Phoenix could ever make her?

She swallows back her hysteria and leaves the hotel room. She's running by the time she reaches the end of the hall.

Remy couldn't have gotten far, he was probably on his way back right now. He knew they couldn't live without each other. He _knew._ He wouldn't leave, he knew leaving her was the same as stabbing a knife through her heart.

She's breathless when she grips the reception desk.

"A man, tall, brown coat, red eyes-where is he?"

The balding man seemed startled. "Uh, well he's-he's not here anymore."

"_Where did he go?!"_

He backs a few feet away. "He, he paid the bill and then left, miss. That was about…" He looks down at the watch on his chunky wrist. "…forty-five minutes ago."

Her face falls and she leans over the counter. She won't let herself lose hope yet. Remy was always doing rash things, he probably wanted to move to a different motel, that was all. He would be back any minute, he wouldn't leave her…

She's running out the revolving doors before the man can even point her in the right direction. She's reminded of the bitter winter as her bare feet slap against the harsh pavement.

But still she runs, until she reaches the nearest bus station.

"Remy!" She yells to his back. She sees him stiffen. He almost turns around, but then seems to change his mind.

He boards the bus.

"No!" She's running again. Her legs and lungs protest but her heart says _faster, faster!_

Her hand reaches the back window, it pulls away. She manages to keep up with the bus and bang against the window for only a few more seconds before collapsing in a sobbing heap.

She feels the familiar burn of his eyes on her, and she looks up.

His hand rests against the same place hers had been, there are tears in his eyes, too.

She screams his name for half an hour before someone finally comes and leads her to the hospital.

_I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning for you. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. Burn out the day. Burn out the day. Burn out the night. Day, day, night, day, night, day, day, night, tonight. And I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. ~Burning For You-Shiny Toy Guns_

**

* * *

**

I cried at least three different times during this chapter, but I cheered myself up by watching 'Salad Fingers' on youtube. Don't think this is the end, cause we're not even close. Both Remy _and_ Phoenix can only stay away for so long.

Thank You to all who reviewed:(you really encouraged me to get this new chapter up so quickly. You are all my rusty spoons.)

**Chellerbelle: **Intense indeed my dear, intense indeed. Though, when is anything involving Rogue and Remy's relationship _not_ intense?

**Cassie: **Such a long review! Where to start, where to start...okay the beginning it is then=). I think everyone was little put -out with the whole thing with John's tongue in places where they wanted Remy's tongue, but it was fun to see him killed off, right? Yeah, him picking a stranger off the streets is not safe at all, but what men will do for sex...especially for a looker like herself. And so you think you know what Rogue is hiding, huh? I've made it pretty obvious I think, with all the times she's told him not to think of her as perfect, and all the...well, I'll stop there because I don't wanna give it up to those who haven't figured it out quite yet. But all will be revealed involving that aspect in a couple chapters, so- as for the update with TIAD, I'm working on it, really I am. I actually have about 75% of chappie 17 done believe it or not, but I'm torn between completing it and revising the rest of it, because honestly I'm ashamed at my earlier writing...

**ColorCoated: **Wait, who said Remy's not real? I don't understand those words...So I'm thinking you and I should become relationship-counselors. We've already got the team thing down, all we need is a place I guess. Who needs a doctor's degree anyways? Dr. Phil is making good money, isn't he? Ohhhhh diss! And you're right, the drama is what makes Romy...Romy. Hahaha I don't think _anyone _was expecting Rogue's involvment with another _homme._ I like keepin' you guys on your toes. But really, we should really think about opening an office together. Remy will be our receptionist. Can't you see it now? Remy filing papers, getting our coffee...and with no clothes of course. Remy naked and gettting us coffee. Mmmmm.

**Crazyrightnow: **Lol I'm glad I guessed your age correctly! And I csn't believe you read that entire response! How nice of you! All that ranting and raving--your a patient(young) lady. To answer your question, Rogue and Remy are indeed hiding from the X-men, but I guess they're living together, so...both. I'll stop there before I go into another rant=)

**Sevenismyluckynumber: **I'm sure your not the only one who's hating on Storm. But remember, just because Remy's with her, does not mean he's in love with her. In fact, he makes it very clear to her that he's not. Gotta feel bad for the girl,right? ...Oh who am I kidding? KILL STORM, KILL STORM!! And if you'll take the time, I did NOT take another three weeks to update, so there! Aren't I mature?

**Laceylou: **You angst-addicted whore you! My mother always told me you were nothing but an angst-addict, and she was right! And Remy has indeed cheated on Rogue before. She allows it because she feels like it's her fault, remember? I can't help but feel that Remy takes advantage of her insecurities, but alas, a man can only be so perfect! And as for Phoenix getting involved with Rogue's father...I never thought of that. It'd be pretty interesting, and not-to-mention fun to watch him get what he deserves- And if you think Phoenix is out of control now, just wait a while my angst-addicted-lover!

**ruroca57: **Another brave soul crazy enough to review! Welcome child. So you're liking it so far? Good! Please don't let the insane antics of the author deterr you from the story. Pickles and Jam. See? Things like that will pop up from time to time and you'll just have to ignore them, alright?

**Payla: **Yearning...flawless...wanting more...all words that make my head swell! You know, someone _could_ confuse your review and my response as something sexual...or maybe it's just me. Insane, perverted me.


	7. Dig For Fire

Dig For Fire

_There is this old woman, she lives down the road. You can often find her kneeling inside of her hole. And I often ask her -Are you looking for the mother lode? Huh? No. No my child, this is not my desire, and then she said: I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire. ~Dig For Fire- Pixies_

**New Orleans, Louisiana. 1995.**

It had seemed like such a brilliant idea at first. He was unhappy, and so why should he stay? Why should he put up with all the chores and the work and the sweat, blood, and tears? These people weren't related to him by blood, they didn't really love him. He was young, but extremely clever. One knew when one was loved, and one knew when one was being used. The difference between the two could be overlooked or ignored by some, but not him.

He was being used for his 'gifts' and he couldn't do it anymore.

He waits until nightfall. The cicadas shrill cry descends upon the warm dark. The city of New Orleans begins to stir, lights glow brightly and laughter and cries and shouts and screams all mix together and fill his ears and make him ache.

_That's _where he belonged, in the thick of it all. He'd been foolish to think family life was any good for him. He'd been born on the streets, and lived on them for an entire decade. They were in his blood, it was what he knew, and no amount of teachings or beatings or money could make him forget that. Of course he was going to miss having vast amounts of money. He was going to miss the endless buffets of food, the expensive clothing, the comfort that went hand-in-hand with wealth.

And he would miss Henri. Henri, who'd treated him like a little brother, who really and truly loved him. Who made him laugh even in his most gloomy times, who took him out and brought him along for a new adventure every day. He'd miss Mercy, too. She was beautiful and kind, the sort of woman Henri deserved.

And Tante, dear Tante. How he'd miss her, yearn for her. She'd given him so much, she'd taught him how to care for another human being. How would she feel when she found out he ran away? How would Henri feel, or Mercy? Would they miss him, would they search for him?

It had seemed like such a brilliant idea at first. But now he isn't so sure. Could he really do this? Yes, he can. He'd survived on his own for most of his life, and he could do it now. He could steal for money, he could hide out in some of the old haunts he'd once gone with Tante. He could do this, he _had _to do this! Living on the streets poor and hungry was better than living in a mansion, used and unloved.

He wonders how long it will take Jean-Luc to find a replacement.

Sudden anger makes the boy's eyes glow and as he climbs out of his window and onto the roof, the contrast between them and the night sky is almost sinister.

The past three years had obviously paid off, and he dismounts the roof and lands on the brick wall with minimal difficulty. He tumbles from the side before the motion detectors can spot him. He maneuvers his body in near impossible positions to avoid the lasers zigzagging across the landscape. And then he runs. He climbs over the gate and slips into the night. He runs until he can't run, he walks until his strength leaves him, but even then he continues on.

Finally, he finds himself leaning against a light pole, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. He's no longer in the French Quarter, and for just a second, cold fear makes him re think what he's done. But it vanishes quickly when he thinks of his hatred for Jean-Luc. He won't go back, he won't let a little bit of fright ruin his chance at freedom.

"Hey!"

Remy looks up from his knees and regards the man with apprehension. He was dirty-looking and had a shady air about him.

Remy is instantly on alert.

"Y' deaf? I said come here, boy."

He does not move. "Why? Can' we talk from here?" He begins feeling under his boot for a stone or pebble. He wasn't used to his explosive abilities yet, but he could conjure them up if need be.

The man cackles and hacks spittle into a stained handkerchief. "Fagan's voice ain't strong, boy. Ain't gonna hurt y', jus need some help drinkin' dis, dats all."

His eyes travel down to the bottle, curiosity peaked. Hesitantly, he stands and comes closer to the man, ammunition hidden in his fist.

Fagan grins a toothless grin, and holds the bottle out to the boy. "Y' ever drank before?"

Remy accepts the bottle and looks down the neck suspiciously. "M' pere-er- m' guardian let me finish off his bourbon every night-"

The man cackles again, this time slapping his knee. "Bourbon, huh? Dat a rich man's drink. Dis here is moonshine, strongest shit you'll ever have de misfortune of drinkin'."

Remy winces, sure enough, the smell was enough to make his stomach churn. "What makes y' t'ink I'll be drinkin' dis?"

He grins once more, slowly this time. "Cause Fagan knows a t'ing or two 'bout young garcons, an' he know when one is itchin' for adventure." He places his hand on the bottom of the bottle and pushes it towards Remy's mouth.

"After y' drink dis, no alcohol will have de same effect on y', ever. It's like havin' instant tolerance."

Bracing himself, Remy takes a swig and his eyes fill with tears as the liquid burns its way down. "Merde," he rasps.

He takes another soon after, and Fagan grunts, obviously impressed.

"Dats enough for now, boy. Come wit me."

Remy follows him blindly, the drink already working through his system and making things spin around him. He got wasted for the first time that night, and he would come to experience many other firsts with Fagan.

Hours later, the fun ended and Remy kneeled in the bathroom of Fagan's one-bedroom shit-hole, (Fagan called it an apartment) and vomited everything up. It seemed he would never stop, but eventually he did, and he slept for hours and hours.

Fagan woke him up the next night, and told him to clean up. Remy did as he was told, and used the sink to rinse out his mouth and wet his hair.

"Y' ever been wit a femme?" He straightened his own collar and ran a hand through his grimy mane.

"What do y' mean?"

"Y' know, have y' ever gone to bed wit a femme?"

He was innocent enough to blush. "N-non. Mais I heard Henri and Theo talkin' 'bout it once."

"Well you're gonna do more den jus talk tonight, boy. Y' hear me?" He limped over to the cabinet and pulled out another bottle. Remy's stomach instantly lurched.

"Come on, boy. Drink up. Y' won' get sick dis time, trust me."

And so Remy does. He drinks even more this time, and soon, he's feeling _good._ Nothing mattered. He didn't think about the people he'd left behind, he didn't think about the Thieves Guild. He didn't think about anything.

The false sense of confidence carried over when he and Fagan stumbled into the 8th ward. The prostitutes in their tight, revealing clothing filled his chest with flutters.

"Dis right here is Susie. She better den most, boy. She'll take good care of y', teach y' every'ing you'll ever need to know."

Fagan thrust some sooty bills in his trembling hand and gave him a wink. "Dis should last y' for most of de night. Have fun, boy!"

Remy opens his mouth to beg Fagan to stay, but the lovely, chocolate colored woman interrupted his thoughts.

"You come here to Susie, I ain't gonna hurt you none."

Gulping, he adjusts his sunglasses and lets her take his hand. She leads him into a run-down building, and invites him to sit next to her on the musty-smelling mattress. She removes her cheetah print top, and Remy feels himself harden.

He blushes and she eases him next to her. "Ain't nothin' to worry 'bout, hear?"

He nods, but releases a groan when her hand goes over the bulge in his pants. She brings his hand to her large breast, instructing the movements he should make with his fingers and hands.

When she starts to pant he knows he's made progress.

"Dose some hands you got there. You sho is good at this, you sure you ain't lyin' to Susie?"

He grins and kisses her full mouth. He's clumsy and inexperienced, but she slows him down and teaches him patiently.

Soon they're both undressed and she lays beneath him. He plunges deep within her warmth, and the sensation is so foreign and intense that it ends almost instantly.

He nearly dies of shame and she pats his back. 'S'only ya first time. An' besides, you youngin's can get it up again right quick."

She was right, it only took a few minutes and he wanted it again. This time he made sure to hold it, and with some difficulty, he managed to pay attention to her words.

She taught him everything she knew that night, and by the end he'd given her all the money in his pocket and asked her when he could see her again.

She pulled her clothes back on. "You gonna be sayin' dat to all the filles in a couple days. I can see it already."

He tells her that she's the only one for him and that he'd certainly marry her. She laughs and swats him on the butt.

"You ole flirt!"

He grins and they part ways. His walk became more of a strut. His shoulders squared and his chin raised and he felt invincible.

He and Fagan met up at the apartment.

The older man lounged across the couch, satisfied. He laughs outright when Remy saunters through the door. "Look at dat grin!"

The Cajun shrugs and buffs his nails on his shirt, setting Fagan's laughter off again.

He shakes his head at him and pulls the blanket over his shoulders. "I'm goin' to bed, Remy."

He frowns. "Y' called me Remy."

"Oui," he grumbles into his pillow. "Dats y' name ain't it?"

"S'just, y' always call me 'boy'."

Fagan chuckles. " Well y' ain't a boy no more, are y'?"

Remy laughs along with him.

* * *

He stayed with Fagan for seven days, seven action-packed days. They went back to the 8th ward, until Fagan's funds ran out, but Remy had no problem with pick-pocketing and they were able to go back. He drank more moonshine, soon he wasn't even puking the day after.

But the thing with good times is their lack of longevity. Good times can only last for so long before fading out, and sometimes they were ripped harshly from beneath your feet.

He'd just come back from another night of love making, and he sensed that something was off even before he opened the door.

Hands entrapped him and he was forced to his knees. He knew the Thieves Guild had come and his happy times were done.

He also knew by the blood pouring from his friend's head that Fagan was dead.

Jean -Luc said only one thing to him before he allowed his goons to beat him. "De guild owns y', you'll never escape…wit y' life."

It had seemed like such a brilliant idea at first. But after this night Remy never tried escaping again.

And then all he remembers is pain.

He breaks through the black water, he hears Mercy and Tante weeping for his broken body.

"Why?" He manages, "why dey have to kill 'em? He never done nothin' wrong-"

Henri's face clouded anger and he went back to applying ice to Remy's face. They'd found him like this in his room. He ached to do something, but he was helpless against his father.

He face was cut and bruised, his arm was broken and his left eye had swollen shut.

It wasn't hard for them to figure out what had happened.

_There is this old man, who spent so much of his life sleeping, that he is able to keep awake for the rest of his years. He resides on a beach, in a town where I am going to live. And I often ask him-Are you looking for the mother lode? Huh? No. No my child, this is not my desire, and then he said: I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire. ~Dig For Fire- Pixies _

It wasn't hard for them to figure out what had happened.

One look at Rogue's hopeless eyes and a quick mental scan, courtesy of Emma, gave them a general idea of what had taken place.

Remy had left to save Rogue, and Phoenix had left to keep her side of the bargain. It was almost enough to make Emma emotional, and that wasn't something that happened often.

Emma looks to Scott wearily. "There are no traces of Phoenix in her mind, she's really gone." Her blue eyes fill with sympathy. "I'm going downstairs to speak with the doctors."

The swish of the door sounds her exit, and Scott leaps from the plastic chair and stands over the belle. He takes her minute hand and presses his lips against it. Finally, they were alone. At last, he can let the tears he should have spilled for his wife spill for her. She looked so helpless, just like she had all those years ago. She must be protected, cared for.

And he would be here to do all that and more. Remy was gone, though he'd left for all the right reasons, it was still abandonment and Scott couldn't wait to help Rogue build her heart back.

Watching her steady breathing and the steady rise and fall of her chest fills Scott with something he can't explain. It wasn't just love, or devotion, its something even more.

He returns to his seat when he hears Emma and Ororo approaching. Emma gives him a knowing look but does not say anything. They'd made all the proper arrangements and Rogue was ready to board the jet. She could go home.

The homecoming was…uncomfortable. No one knew exactly what happened. The last they'd seen of Rogue was when she'd destroyed the west wing of the mansion, and then she and Remy disappeared. Where had they gone? Where was Remy now?

Bobby began asking questions, but went silent at Emma's violent glare.

Rogue ignores their encouraging smiles and pats on the back, she declines Hank's offer to receive a 'quick' check-up, and goes straight to her room.

Once there, her calm begins to unravel. Remy was really and truly gone. He was supposed to have come for her in the hospital. She would have been mad at first, but he would smile that smile and make some joke and she would forgive him instantly, like she always did. His face would go serious and her tears would fall over. He would hold her and promise her never again, that he would always be there. He would kiss her salty cheeks, and then he would kiss her lips. She would taste the salt and spice of his mouth. And they would come together, they would stay that way forever. Their love wasn't easy like Emma and Bobby's, or durable like Scott and Jean's, but it was still love, and it would keep them going.

The belle leaves her spot on the bed and whips open her closet door. She feels her way to the back and opens the case.

It was full of portraits. Some in paint, some in charcoal, some in plain pencil. Some were on expensive canvases and some were on scraps of notebook paper. But they were all done lovingly, they were all secret, they were all of _him._ Of him in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee. Of him in mid jump during a danger room session, the glowing cards flying from his hand in a precise arc.

There were some of him smiling, grinning, laughing, frowning, thinking, yelling, crying. All this images that happened in real life or in her mind. Some were of just one body part. An eye, the corner of his mouth, a lock of his wild hair. Anything that moved her at the time.

What an obsession, what a lie. Remy had filled her heart and mind but now he was gone, just like that. Just like that. Poof, he'd walked right out of her life. She wonders what would happen if she could time travel. If she could go back and tell the love sick artist of these pictures that it wouldn't matter in the end. That things would end harshly and abruptly, just like she'd always known they would. And hadn't she known? Hadn't she tried building walls and ignoring her feelings and pushing him away? But she'd been weak, she'd let him sneak in somehow, and now she's paying for it. She's paying for her naivety with every painful beat of her heart, with the dizziness in her head, with the morose memories that were her doomed love.

With a tilt of her chin, two years of memories and hopes and dreams are crumple to dust. Gone, nothing. All evidence of what she'd felt for him, gone, just like that.

Just like that.

She goes to his room next. The first thing she notices when she enters the dark space are the pictures. She picks one up, sneering at their happy-go-lucky grins. Lies, liars deserved to burn.

A small flame forms in her hand and the picture frames pop and crackle. She watches herself and Remy curl into black ash. She does the same with his blankets and clothes and books, surrounding them all in a telekinetic ball so as to not alert the X-men.

When it's done she curls into a ball in the middle of his bare room. Everything was gone, like he was gone. He'd vanished without a trace, and so had his things. He made it seem like he'd never been there in the first place, and she returned the favor.

It was all gone, poof, just like that.

Just like that.

* * *

She ignored the arguments of Logan and Scott and showed up at the session anyway. Her hair was thrown in a ponytail, her uniform was clean and her face was determined.

Life would go on. She was tired of their pity, she was tired of sitting in her room, crying for a man that was never returning to her.

Two weeks was plenty of time to mourn, she was done with that now. She was Rogue, the strong one, the solid one, the fighter.

What started as a simple routine became an all out one-woman battle as she let her frustration come to the front. Bone claws extended from her knuckles, a violet katana appeared in her right hand, while a ball of ice formed in the other. She floated high above them and soared across the landscape, pummeling any android that dared enter her vision.

For so long she'd hidden her psyches away, and now they were free. The results were explosions, destruction, and unparalleled power.

They are staring at her when she decommissions the last droid. Their mouths ajar, fear is present on their faces.

But before anything can be said to break the silence, Xavier's voice comes over the intercom. Hank had just informed him that miraculously, both Betsy and Jean were up and functioning, and ready to see visitors. They were to terminate the session and head to the Med lab immediately.

They hadn't needed any encouragement, as soon as their recovery was made known the team broke out into jumps and cries of happiness. Warren was especially excited, and was gone almost instantly.

She and Scott find each other in the swarm of ecstatic X-men. His smile is relieved but shaky.

Their hands intertwine and they leave together.

**May 2006.**

It's the evening of her nineteenth birthday, and she'd forbade them to throw her a big party. She hated being the center of attention, but in true X-man fashion, they completely ignored what she wanted and went all out anyway. Too many balloons and decorations, too much food, too many people, and way too many presents.

He'd taken her arm and lead her to Hank's office.

"I heard the Professor and Mr. McCoy talking about it a week ago." He blushes and smiles sheepishly. "I thought that maybe…"

She eyes the device cautiously, her face just as red as his. "But what if somethin' goes wrong? What if-"

He presses his lips in her hair. And she wants it, so very badly. Couldn't she let herself be selfish, just this once? One night to let go and feel. One night out of a million nights. One change to forget. To forget Piotr, her skin, his fiancé, their duties as X-men.

They walk hand in _un_gloved hand down the hill. He kisses her, she decides she likes the feel of tongues and lips mingling together, she decides she isn't scared or disgusted, at least for right now. Soon they're tangled together by the lake. The heavy, bulky collar around her neck is uncomfortable, but his mouth on hers is the exact opposite, it was _more_ than comfortable.

Together, alone. They wouldn't be disturbed on this night. There was too much commotion inside for anyone to notice their absence, and it didn't hurt that a new guy had arrived today, a friend of Storm's. A guy with startling fiery eyes and too much charm, a guy who flirted with any woman who would listen and kept them distracted with his smooth tongue, Jean included.

"I never thought I'd ever get to touch you," he confesses, peeling off her dress and watching her face to make sure he wasn't going too fast.

"Me either, shuga." She reverberates his actions and unbuttons his shirt. Wet grass and twigs work themselves into her silken curls, but she's never been more content.

"Are you sure you're ready," he breathes. He runs his thumb across her smooth cheek. She was beauty incarnate, and he'd never wanted anything more in his entire life.

"Oh, yes." She unzips his pants clumsily and bites her lip. "Ah, ah want ya to touch me everywhere. Ah want to feel everythin'."

They lay naked together and he braces his weight on his elbows. "I would do anything for you." And as he kisses her neck he lets himself enter her.

She cries out in both pain and awe as he forces his manhood against her hymen.

"_Scott-" _Her voice comes back and the throbbing has faded to a dull ache. She smiles up at him shyly, she's never wanted to see his eyes so badly before.

He doesn't move just yet. "I would leave her for you." He's ashamed, but relief comes with the truth. He loved this woman, and the love fills him up more and more as he feels her core soften and mold around his intrusion.

His words don't surprise her, they'd known each other's feelings for years. But even as they begin moving together and she whimpers from the pleasure of it, she knows she will never ask Scott to leave Jean. Sometimes love wasn't enough to keep a relationship going, there had to be common interests and similar personalities, and Jean could give him those things. She wishes Scott could be hers, but some things in life were just meant to be, no matter what.

Jean and Scott were one of those things.

It hurt to admit that, but she was used to hurting, she was used to sacrificing her heart so life could go on smoothly.

She and Scott can never be. They only thing they had was love, and maybe it should stay that way. It _had _to stay that way.

With this in mind, she slowly lets her heart break and watches the twinkling stars as she and her best friend make love.

**Present Day.**

Henry stops her right outside the lab.

"Is there something wrong?" They'd managed to detangle their hands.

"Not at all, Scott." Beast smiles and pats Rogue on the back. "I simply need to have a few words with our Mississippi Marauder, why don't you join the others?"

His jaw tightens but Rogue shakes her head. "S'okay Scott, ah'll be right in, ya go ahead."

"But-"

"Yoah wife is waitin' for ya, shuga."

Something mists behind his visor, he nods and turns and does as she asks.

Beast fiddles his huge thumbs awkwardly. "It sure is astounding, the way they both recovered at the same time-"

"Get on with it Hank." She forces a smile. "Everyone knows what a bad liar ya are, so don't even try."

He nods and itches the back of his neck. "I wanted to recommend that you refrain from seeing Betsy and Jean at this time, they're delusional and are saying things they don't mean-"

Her eyes go over his furry face. "There's somethin' yoah not tellin' me-"

He doesn't answer and her suspicions are confirmed.

"Ah don't know what yoah problem is, but ah _have _to see them! No matter how angry they get or what they say, ah deserve all of it. Ah hurt both of them and ah-" Tears fill her vision but she brushes past him so he can't see.

"Ah have to see that they're really okay, it's the least ah can do!"

"But Rogue-"

The belle notices insignificant details as she bursts into the room and all conversation stops, as Jean drops her glass of water and Betsy's fingers tangle in the sheets.

She notices the slight wave of Jean's fire hair, how small Betsy had gotten, how Jean's eyes were two bowls filled with ocean water, how dark Betsy's sapphire eyes had gotten, the chipped, pink polish on Jean's finger as she lifts her arm and points at her with a trembling finger.

"Kill her."

Beast runs to prepare a needle. "She needs a tranquilizer-"

Betsy rocks back and forth in Warren's arms. "You don't understand-the power-she'll return-she'll kill us all-"

The Professor's head drops into his hands. "They're projecting!"

Emma falls to her knees soon after and the screaming begins.

"Kill her! Now, while she's weak. Kill her!"

"The power-never seen anything like it-devastating power-she'll return-she'll kill us all-"

Hank takes Jean's arm but she uses her telekinesis to knock him away. "Kill her Scott, kill her!"

"Stop it, Jean!" Her husband shakes her. "What's gotten into you?"

The chaos only continues and Rogue escapes to the hallway. She leans on the wall. What was happening? What did they mean? She'd expected them to be mad at her, maybe even furious. But to want her dead…?

She feels Scott's hands on her shoulders. "They're not thinking straight. They must still think Phoenix is inside you."

He helps her up and hugs her.

"It'll all be okay, Rogue. And I'll be here, for whatever you need."

* * *

That night she finds herself outside Scott's door. She watches as her hand knocks and he opens it, his face filling with both surprise and desire.

She kisses him and he kisses her back. They know each other's mouths, each other's technique. He's held her like this before, the feel of his hair through her fingers is familiar. They enter the room lip-locked, they fall on the bed.

He breathes in her scent, letting it overpower his wife's. Soon the entire room seems to have forgotten Jean, and all he can see/smell/hear/taste/feel is Rogue.

His hand slips down her stomach and under her panties. It's been so long that she shutters and whimpers and her orgasm comes quickly, powerfully.

She lets Scott fill her both physically and mentally. For awhile, a few hours, she's able to forget about the man named Remy, just like that.

Just like that.

_No my child, this is not my desire, and then she said: I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire. No my child, this is not my desire, and then he said: I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire. No my child, this is not my desire, and then she said: I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire, I'm Digging For Fire. ~Dig For Fire- Pixies _

* * *

That was interesting, yes? Some things revealed, some more questions arise. I tried to make up for the lack of Remy by putting an extra long memory scene in, but for most of you it's probably not enough. You fiends!

Haha I'm interested in seeing all the reactions y'all have in regards to all the Scouge. Some of you figured it out pretty quickly, but some of you probably read this with your jaws on the ground and with your stomach clenching. I know it's gross, but Scott isn't _that _bad...And remember, Remy doesn't know yet, oh my! How will he find out? How will he react?

Nice job on all the reviews! As Randirogue would say: Egads!

**ruroca57: **I'm pretty sucky for the romancy, too. I don't follow the soap, but knowing I reminded you of one is awesome! After all, who does depressing, angst-ridden, sob-erific scenes like the soaps? No one! And it'd be straight up hypocricy for me to judge you for (definately) having some loose screws. You're talking to the Queen of loose-screws! Haven't you ever heard of my kingdom? It's called Loosescrewia, and our native language is called screwsiesloosies. See? I just made up a make believe world. And you think _you're _a little nutty...ohh nuts!

**Chellerbelle: **Don't hug the chapter, hug me!! I'm the one doing all the work, chapters don't just right themselves! If it wasn't for me, it'd still be in a notebook, rotting in my closet. (Yes I get jealous of my own work. Yes I have a problem. Yes you may pretend we never had this conversation.)

**aiRo25: **There is one word big enough...PAYBACK!! Cause you know what? I cried from chapter 40 of _Whispers_ until chapter 100!! 60 chapters. _60 chapters!!_ Okay so each chapter was only 100 words, but it makes no difference! There was snot and hiccuping involved, so there. You got what you deserved. Naughty aiRo, making me cry like that, naughty!

**Randirogue: **Awww shoot! You don't gotta be nice for lil ole me! Wait, yes you do. Cause unhappy Merr2 = no update. =)

**ColorCoated: **Or how bout: "Don' get confused by my washboard abs ladies, dis isn't a laundromat." Or, "Welcome to ColorCoated/Merr2 Inc., where de prices can't be beat...but de receptionist can ;)" Haha oh we have fun together...but on to seriousness: yes, Phoenix is quite the annoyance. And Remy is brunting the force of it, poor thing. But don't be so convinced that Remy's intentions were completely unselfish. He was thinking how _he _could no longer handle Phoenix and how _he _couldn't bear the thought of Rogue being taken over again. So yes, even though his heart was in the right place, his actions weren't altogether with Rogue's best interests in mind. Why couldn't he have stayed and supported her when she was in control? Instead of staying and offering help, he rashly decided to up and leave. Again, my bitterness towards Remy leaks out through my response. And don't lose hope yet! Things could work out...oh wait I can't feed you that line because you guys already already know the ending...hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!! I'm such a bitch- Oh! And before I forget, why didn't you tell me you actually _wrote _fanfiction, and good fanfiction! I finsished chapter one of _Turning Point,_ and I'm hooked already. You secretive little thing you! Be expecting a review from me soon...

**Cassie: **How could I? Well, basically I started typing on a keyboard and words appeared on the screen...no I'm just kidding! What a cheeky wench I am! But anyway, I apologize for making you sad, I wish I could tell you things will get better soon, but the next chapter is pretty sob worth as well, and none of my other fics are very cheerful either. I'm thinking about posting a humor one-shot for some comic relief, but time is something I don't have(along with money.)

**Payla: **You and your big words=)

**Sevenismyluckynumber: **Jeesh, your review depressed _me!_ It sounded so...sad and hopeless. Did the chappie really hit you that hard...? Please don't kill yourself, I can't take that kind of guilt on my head!

**Crazyrightnow: **Alas my dear, Phoenix's feelings are NOT platonic. She is indeed in love with Rogue like Remy is in love with Rogue. It's like mommy-daddy love, just without the penis, and an extra set of boobs. But I guess if the dad's heavy then there's already an extra set of boobs, but I digress. If your worried, I'm not planning on having anything _too _explicit happen between Rogue and Phoenix, but I can't make any promises.

**Laceylou: **Lucky for you my angst-addicted spouse, there is no rehab for your kind...yet. But ColorCoated and I are in the process of opening a practice, so that all might change soon. I'm glad you noticed the signifigance of the opening scene. Yes, I put it there to fill in some spots of the past, but also to 'seemingly' prove that Rogue was right about she and Remy not working out, and I really focused on that in this chapter. The chapter between Phoenix and Remy was hard to right. I wanted him to hit her, but I knew he wouldn't be able to hit her while she was in Rogue's body. I wasn't sure if I liked the sexual undertones, but I decided to leave them in. Phoenix is a very sensation-oriented being, and it only made sense that she'd want Remy.(who doesn't??) You are sick, but it's okay cause that's why I married you=) Yes, we are married. Creepy, yes. Sexy? Definately.

**Too Damn Cute: **I'm glad to hear that! I like your pen by the way. Not conceited at all...hahaha jk, jk.

Well, there it is. Another chapter completeted. I'm going to pat myself on the back when my fingers uncramp. I updated this and TIAD in the span of one day! Yes, you may shower me with awe and adoration right...now!

Next chapter we get to see Remy's side of things. Can't wait! Oh, and if you would all be so kind, please take a moment to answer the poll on my profile!

Lovingly,  
Merr2.


	8. Keep Yourself Warm

Keep Yourself Warm

_My hole, I'll get my hole, I'll get my hole. Get my hole, get my hole and I'll find out 's a choo-choo train, a rocket launch. If we have a hormone race I'm bound to finish you see in the dark? Can you see the look on your face? When flashing white light's been turned off, you don't know who's in your bed. It takes more than fucking someone you don't know to Keep Warm. Do you really think that for a house-beat you'll find your love in a hole? You won't find love in a, won't find love in a hole. It takes more than fucking someone to Keep Yourself Warm. ~Keep Yourself Warm- Frightened Rabbits_

**New York, 2034.**

He hadn't been there when things had gotten really bad, but he heard the stories. Things changed for Rogue in his absence. The delicate trust he'd managed to gain was no more, and he can never forget the look in her eyes when they saw each other again. Love was there, but so was something else.

Something he never thought he'd have to see coming from her.

It was the same look Ororo gave him every night when they sat down for dinner, it was the same look Bella gave him right before her suicide, it was the same look Tante gave him when the trials were all said and done and he was exiled.

He couldn't explain the look exactly, but it was a mixture of distrust and loathing and love and desperation. Of knowing that he couldn't be saved, that he was damned. That no matter what they did, he would hurt them and abuse them and in the end they'd be the fool. It said that he was passed redemption, devoid of virtue, full of sin. It was what he felt for himself and even expected from those around him.

But not her, never her. She was supposed to make him better, purify him. If only he'd realized in those days that Rogue wasn't perfect, couldn't be perfect. If only he'd stopped focusing on what he wanted and paid attention to what _she _wanted, what _she _needed. For a time he'd been able to forget that she was human, that she had her own skeletons and demons and fears.

If only he'd realized that she'd been drowning, too. That maybe, she needed saving even more than he did.

Nothing, _nothing _he'd gone through could compare to what she'd suffered. And she hadn't let it beat her, she hadn't given into her darkness as he'd done. She was brave, terribly brave.

Everyone, himself included, had never really seen past Rogue's mask. She smiled, she joked, she flirted, she did whatever it took to keep their attention elsewhere instead of inside. The things she went through…dieu. And he thought _he'd _been hardened by his childhood. Even after the beatings and the abandonment and the hurt and the homelessness and the killings and the numerous sins he can't even begin to count, there was still a tiny part of his heart that held out hope. Hope that the next day would be better, that he'd find love.

Rogue had no hope.

What he'd thought was simple pessimism was actually the way her mind worked. From the very beginning, she'd predicted their relationship would fail and both of them would walk away hurt. And she'd been right, in a way.

But he doesn't regret one damn minute of it.

The feeling of her in his arms, the unrealistic green of her eyes, the way her laugh tinkled like bells…all were enough to mend any hurt he'd ever felt.

Maybe they could have saved each other. If they'd had a little more time, if Phoenix hadn't interfered, if he hadn't had to…had to…

But it was too late for all that. Rogue had done all she could for him and he'd been too blind to return the favor.

He'd let her down again. The one time she really needed him, he hadn't been there.

_I'm drunk, I'm drunk, and you're probably on pills. If we've both got the same diseases it's irrelevant girl. And the room fills with steam. Oh, evaporates, disappears. My point of entry is the same way that I leave. Can you see in the dark? Can you see the look on your face? The flashing white light's been turned off, you don't know who's in your bed. It takes more than fucking someone you don't know to Keep Warm. Do you really think that for a house-beat you'll find your love in a hole? ~Keep Yourself Warm- Frightened Rabbits_

He'd let her down again. The one time she really needed him, he hadn't been there.

He'd been passed out on a street in his hometown- the last place on earth he should be, _if_ he wanted to live that is. The bottle still remained in his hand, he shakes it and finds there's a little more left.

He downs it, wipes his sleeve across his mouth and attempts to stand. The streetlights and brick swirl around him and he falls back against the wall. He was not pleasantly drunk, he was shit faced, plastered, smashed, he was all the terms for 'too drunk' he couldn't think of. The kind of drunk that rips away the smirks and the confidence and the charm, and bares his battered soul for all, himself included, to see. There would be no ignoring the problems of his life tonight. The kind of drunk that lets him know the alcohol will be forcing its way up soon.

Speaking of…

The putrid smelling contents of his stomach heave onto the sidewalk, and he glares down into the mess. Something like tears fill his vision, and he closes his eyes.

Rogue. He needed Rogue.

"How de mighty have fallen."

Despite his inebriation, the cajun is able to whip his bo staff from his pocket and aim it at the throat of the shadowed form.

He steps into the light, seemingly unconcerned with the metal rod braced against his windpipe.

"Dis anyway to treat yo' grand frère?"

His face goes slack, but Remy does not lower his weapon. "I only been here un jour, how y' find me so soon?"

His brother smiles sadly, his amber eyes warm. "Y' really askin' dat question, boy? Y' ain't been gone from de Guild long enough t' forget de power we have."

Henri brushes the staff away and ventures closer to his younger brother. Remy's face hardens and Henri pauses.

He deserved that hostile gaze, really he did. It didn't mean he expected it though, it didn't make the need to hold his brother any less powerful.

"Does he know?"

Henri doesn't need to ask who the 'he' Remy refers to is. "Oui. He's sent hommes after y'. Dere trained well, Remy. He would send nothin' but his best after Gambit."

He chuckles dryly and drops the staff completely. "De bastard don' waste time, do he?" He doesn't wait for an answer, and instead turns to leave.

"Where y' goin'?" Henri's heavy footsteps echo behind him.

"Why y' here?" Remy whips around suddenly and they nearly collide. "To warn me? To tell me goodbye 'fore he kills moi? To gloat? _Pourquoi?!_"

The older man turns from him, focusing instead on a nearby car. "Dere here, mon frère." He turns swiftly down an alley way. "Y' too drunk to walk? Can' risk goin' back to my car."

Remy stays where he is, sensing the approach of the vehicle clearly. "I can' take care of myself."

Henri turns and grips Remy's shoulders. "I done wrong by y', let y' go without even tryin'." Torrents of memories and guilt go over him, for a moment he is silent. "Mais let me explain myself, Remy. Don' get yo' self killed 'fore I can try makin' t'ings right wit y'."

Remy's eyes flash before cooling. "Fine." He could never say no to his brother when they were children, and now was no different.

And then they both disappear into the darkness of the alley way.

The goons in the car react quickly, leaving the vehicle with guns at the ready. They follow the two men, listening for any movement and paying close attention to their surroundings.

"Let's split up," one suggests.

The eldest of the men snorts. "Y' fou? Dis ain't no regular trail, dese de brothers of de Guild. We can' be takin' t'ings lightly."

He shoulders his gun and peers into the darkness.

"Gambit has returned. God help us all."

Nostalgia nearly chokes him as they make their way to safety. He remembers the grueling hours spent jogging and training in Woldenberg Park- begging for water but never receiving it.

He'll never forget the night on the Moon Walk, seeing his bride-to-be bathed in starlight and smiling up at him as he kissed her. How safe they'd felt, how sure they were that everything would work out. Their marriage would end the feud and they'd be happy forever.

The Sunday afternoons spent in the _Café Du Monde_, sipping on something hot and letting the stresses of life fall away with every cup of coffee.

Henri interrupts his thoughts with a slight chuckle. He'd stopped, and Remy looks back at him in confusion.

He ventures onto the circular walk, glancing up at the sculpture, his voice is colored with humor. "Never forget de day my brother blew de head of de great Andrew Jackson himself. Thought Pere's face would always be red after dat." **(1)**

A begrudging grin appears on Remy's face, and he took looks up at the art. "Dey did a good job patchin' it back on, non? It needed repairs anyway, Remy jus' sped up de process."

Henri rolls his eyes. "So dats what y' call a bet gone wrong."

They leave the sculpture and memory behind, traveling further in the shadows, a companionable silence between them.

Remy smirks back at him. "Somebody's a little slow dis evenin'."

He gives him the finger. Helping his father lead the guild had him in the gym less, and behind a desk more. Numbers and calculations replaced push-ups and jogs. A wife and kid took the place of booze and parties. While he'd never been quite as reckless as his younger brother, he'd had his share of wild times. But like his exercise, those days had long since passed.

Henri wasn't out of shape by any means, but an eight mile run wasn't as easy for him as it was years ago. Remy, on the other hand, breezed right through it.

They reach the corner of St. Peter and Royal, and Henri leads him breathlessly to the front door of a peach colored house. Flowers and trees littered the small yard. White border trimmed the many windows of the tall home.

"Dis y' place?" Something sticks to the back of his throat, but he tries to pretend he isn't bothered.

"Oui. Mercy an' Louis are sleepin', try to keep it quiet, d'accord?"

They enter the house and Remy feels instantly out of place. "Who's Louis, y' dog?" He removes his shoes politely and waits for Henri's instructions.

"Remy, Louis is my son."

That couldn't be possible, he hadn't been gone that long…had he? And even if he had, he'd kept tabs on those he loved, well, he tried to. The life of an X-man didn't leave room for much distraction, and he'd let Rogue completely take over any free time he had. But he'd never thought-

"We been married six years. Tried invitin' y' mais no one knew where y' were. Louis was born deux years later, found out about dat school y' live at and tried to get a hold of y'. Dey always said y' weren't dere.

Remy feels his brother approaching closer behind him. "Found out six months ago dat we were havin' another bebe, a girl."

Henri steps in front of Remy, undaunted by his greater height. Remy, however, bows his head in shame. A niece, a nephew- he hadn't even known, hadn't given a thought…

"Dere's a guest room and bathroom downstairs. Go clean yourself up and I'll make some coffee."

**Mississippi 2004.**

Despite Aunt Irene's warnings about her skin condition, Rogue could not give up her cut-off shorts, or her tank-tops. She couldn't wear gloves all the time like her Aunt asked her to, she couldn't stop hugging her friends or whispering secrets in their ears. She couldn't stop seeing Cody, she couldn't give up their friendship. How could she? He was too deeply ingrained in her thoughts, her heart. He was the first friend she'd ever had. Daddy didn't let her play with other kids, and she'd been too scared to make friends after first moving in with Aunt Irene.

She forgot when Cody's eyes began to change, change like Daddy's did whenever he touched her. She couldn't pinpoint when her flat chest and backside abandoned her and curves made her self-conscious. Sometime, in the summer between her thirteenth and fourteenth birthday, they could no longer swim in the river naked without Cody bunching a shirt over his crotch and running behind a tree.

Sometime, just before her fifteenth birthday, they'd been laying in the field, their field, a thick blanket beneath them. One minute they'd been pointing and naming the stars like always, the next Cody was leaning over her. "Ya ever been kissed, Marie?" He knew she hadn't, they'd never been apart from each other for more than a day. He knew he was the only male she didn't shy away from. He knew if she was going to kiss someone, it'd be him.

He'd pressed a sloppy, inept kiss on her lips before she could even respond.

She'd shoved his chest as hard as she could and ran home. Cody had betrayed her, though he didn't know it. He looked at her like Daddy, and now he was trying to touch her like Daddy, too.

The next day, he showed up red-faced at her front door. He walked her to school like he'd always done, but not once did he look or talk to her.

He was over it by the end of the day, they ran home together. In the weeks and months to come they eased back into their comfortable friendship. She ignored it when his hugs made her uncomfortable, and when she sat in his lap to watch a movie, she pretended she couldn't feel his hard warmth pressing into her leg. He tried vainly to keep his eyes from falling to her growing chest, tried not to let her smell fill his nostrils and arouse him, but he couldn't.

It was a stagnant relationship. Rogue was perfectly happy with behaving like a child for the rest of her days. She didn't mind not touching or kissing, she preferred it that way. Cody, on the other hand, was speeding to adulthood and was having adult feelings. He couldn't bring himself to experiment with other girls, he loved the green-eyed beauty too much. Rogue was keeping him in place, in their make-believe world, while real-life was stretching him forward.

She wanted to play all the childish games they'd always played, he wanted to go to dances. She wanted to hide her changing figure, he wanted to touch it. She wanted to buy ice cream cones, he wanted to taste alcohol. She punched him and he wanted to hold her hand. She pulled his hair and he wanted to kiss her. She wrestled him to the ground and he wanted to be inside of her, more than anything. She wanted him as her friend, he wanted her as a man wants a woman, so badly. So badly that it was becoming increasingly painful.

Another year of this torment, of staying in one place. He was sixteen years old and had never been to a party, had never brought a sip of beer to his mouth, had never snuck out, had never kissed a girl, had never done the things a teenager was expected to do.

But Cody's heart was too big to ever resent her for it, to ever push her.

Until the night when something changed. When he was entirely too fed up with their platonic relationship. When her breasts and thighs were too exposed for him to control himself any longer. When the gloss on her lips made him ache even more, when the smell of her vanilla shampoo evaded all rational thought.

They'd ventured into the woods that night, having the strangest urge to visit their old tree house. They found it after getting lost a couple of times.

"Ya sure ya wanna do this?" He eyes the sorry excuse of a hideout. "Don't look very steady ta me."

She grabs his arm and tosses back her curly head. "Have ah ever put ya in danger before?"

He opens his mouth to remind her of all the broken bones and detentions he's gotten because of her great ideas over the years, but she begins climbing the rope.

"Hold on," He takes the rope from her hand and tests it using his weight. "At least let me try it out first."

She giggles and puts her hand on her chest. "Oh Cody, your so brave!"

He sticks his tongue out at her and uses his hands and feet to shimmy up the rope. He reaches the ledge, and helps her up when she reaches the top.

"Is it just me, or is this thing wobblin'?"

She shrugs and crawls through the small opening. "It probably is. We did make it when we were twelve."

He gulps and follows her, brushing away a few cobwebs and sneezing as dust fills his nose. Somehow, they both manage to squeeze in, Rogue laughs when she turns and their heads crash together.

"Ah think we might be a _little _too big," she attempts to sit but kicks him in the shin instead. "Sorry!"

"Me, too." He pinches her arm and laughs.

"Asshole!" She pinches him back, and so starts the fight. They wrestle in the cramped space, knocking old toys and molded posters onto the ground around them.

In the past, she won their little matches every time. She was quick and sneaky and he often found himself on the ground. But over the years they grew uneven. He surpassed her height and weight. Whilst she grew softer in places, he grew harder, more solid.

And so he's able to pin her down with relative ease. But as she chuckles breathlessly and writhes below him, the playfulness dissipates and the desire he's tried so desperately to hide flares in his sky blue eyes.

She feels the change in the air like a cold shiver, and attempts to sit. "Cody-"

But his lips press against hers, soft and loving. Her eyes clamp shut and she tries to ignore the fire racing up and down her veins. This wasn't Daddy, this was Cody. Cody loved her, Cody would never hurt her…but he _was_ hurting her. He was making her remember all the years she'd tried to forget with just a simple kiss. He was making her skin burn and her head throb.

But through it all, she loved him, she loved Cody. And he'd waited, he'd waited so very long.

In the dark, they learn. Cody would have been embarrassed, had Rogue not been as incompetent as he was. Her avoidance of anything sexual and his long wait causes them both to feel confused, like children playing grown-up.

Bitten tongues and clashing teeth, fumbling hands and whispered apologies. Hot need and cold apprehension. Part of her likes it, all of him needs it. And they try, they work at it, soon their movements are fluid and slower, more thorough. She thinks that maybe she can do this, maybe she can let Cody kiss her more often.

She thinks it feels good, until Cody makes the mistake of reaching for her thighs and her father's face flashes in her mind.

The burning comes back, she swears she's on fire. She sees his life flash before her eyes, she screams when his body falls to the side and he ceases to breathe. She sobs as she tries to climb down, she twists her ankle trying to run home.

Irene knows, Irene knows everything. She reaches for the belle. "Marie, poor Marie. It wasn't your fault, do you understand? It wasn't your-"

Aunt Irene touches her cheek, knowing what would happen. She runs from the house, her home. Her vision leaves her but somehow she knows where to go.

Cody's visions, Irene's visions…both disorient her and when she reaches the bus station and a pretty blonde woman who tells her she's a friend of her Aunt's smiles and asks her if she wants to come with her to New York, Rogue can only cry and collapse at her feet.

**Present Day.**

He finds the kitchen, wearing the sweats Henri brought to his room. He slicks his wet hair back from his face and accepts the cup and sandwich his brother sets in front of him gratefully.

"So when did y' decide to move," he asks around a mouthful.

Henri sits across from him with his own mug in hand and shrugs. "Right after de weddin'. Pere was gettin' a bit…overwhelmin'."

Remy snorts. "It took y' all dose years to realize dat?"

"Non," he shakes his head, eyes focused on something Remy can't see. "I'd always known how power-hungry and bossy he could be, mais he's gotten worse. Ever since de Thieves got control over all of New Orleans, he's constantly worried about someone takin' away his control."

"Total control?"

Henri shifts uncomfortably. "Well, when Julien died an' Marius followed suit, an' Belladonna's death reached us…"

The cajun's eyes glow fiercely and he tries to hide his grimace. "Is dat a nice way of tellin' me dat because I single handedly killed off de Boudreaux's, dere was no one left fit to rule?"

There's pity in Henri's expression and Remy can't stand pity.

"De ole man musta been bout to bust from joy, non?"

"Wish I could deny dat, mais I can't. Pere could barely keep de smirk off his face at de funeral."

Remy shakes his head in disgust and tries not to let the deaths of his fiancé and her brother cross his thoughts.

"Dat bastard-" He smirks dryly and pushes his plate away. "Mais I can' judge, now can I? I'll be burnin' in Hell right next to him."

"Ain't none of us been doin' right by de lord, frère."

He decides to change the subject, because if his brother knew some of the things he'd done over the past nine years-

"How's Tante?"

Henri chuckles, good mood restored. "Fiery and opinionated as ever. Theo brought his girlfriend of five years to meet her for de first time. Tante told her she looked like a two-cent ho wit all dat make up on, an' dat her halter top made her breasts look like cantaloupes in tube socks. De girl burst into tears an' none of us have seen her around since."

Remy throws his head back and laughs, forgetting about the sleeping woman and baby upstairs. "Ole bat hasn't changed one bit!" Remy swipes mirth from his eyes, delighted to know that no matter how long he'd been gone, some things he remembered never changed.

They recover from their laughter and Henri leans forward. "S' real good seein' y, Remy."

He tries to remain unaffected, and waves him away. "Don' start gettin' all emotional on me."

"I mean it. I tried convincin' Pere for years to at least let y' visit, we all did. Dere was a time last year when I thought dat he might give in, mais as usual, I couldn't get a hold of y'."

Remy smiles, thinking back to the previous year. "I appreciate dat, Henri. Mais honestly, I probably wouldn't have wanted to come back."

Henri grins and raises his eyebrow, like he'd been expecting that answer all along. "What's her name?"

He looks at him slightly startled and his older brother shakes his head.

"Y' should know by now y' can' keep nothin' from moi. Knew from de moment I saw y' pukin' on de street dat somethin' was different 'bout y'."

His eyes dim. "Don' really matter now. I left her, Henri, an' I can' never go back." The desperation he'd been trying to avoid hits him harshly. Rogue. He needed Rogue…

Henri's hand goes to his. And Remy tells him everything. Belle, Sinister, The X-men-

He tells him about Rogue, and why he must stay away, why he must let his heart die to keep hers going.

When he finishes hours have passed and the sun has broken the horizon. His face is hidden in his arm, his eyes burn with the need to release the pent up tears, Henri's hand remains in his. Sometime during his tale, Mercy had appeared and now wraps her arms around his shoulders, he can hear that she's crying.

"I need her!"

"Je sais, Je sais." Mercy smoothes his hair back and motions for Henri to fetch him a box of Kleenex. Remy may have thought he didn't need it, but she could tell he wasn't going to be able to hide his pain for much longer.

Not a beat after Henri returns to the kitchen with box in hand, there's a bang on the front door. Remy's head snaps up and he and Henri make eye contact.

All three go into action. Henri goes to answer the door while Remy runs to fetch his cards and staff, Mercy pretends to be busy, and begins preparing coffee and breakfast.

"Can I help y'?" Henri blocks the doorway, regarding the men coolly.

One of the men crosses his arm over his chest and bows, the others follow suit. "My most sincere apologies for botherin' y' at y' home, especially at such an early hour, mais your father has sent us to retrieve Gambit."

Mercy waddles up behind Henri, holding her swollen belly. "Y' tell dat _vieil idiot _**(2)**to mind his own business!"

The man bows even lower. "A pleasure to see y', Mrs. Lebeau. Y' look lovely."

"Non, I look like a pregnant femme dats been woken out of bed at five o' clock in de mornin'!"

"Again, I apologize for de inconvenience." He rises and turns to Henri. "Jus give us Gambit an' we'll be on our way."

"An' if I don'?"

The man sighs and pulls his gun from its holster. Henri instantly steps in front of Mercy.

"Is dat a _threat?!" _She hisses. "How dare y'? Dis is Henri Lebeau, Prince of T'ieves! An' y' brandish a gun at him, in his own home?!"

The man has enough common sense to back away from the hormonal woman. "I myself respect y' as a leader, Mr. Lebeau, mais y' father has given us explicit orders to-"

"Now I know all dis commotion can' be pour moi!" Remy slides down the banister and places a kiss on Mercy's cheek before brushing past them.

"What de _fuck _are y' doin," Henri snarls under his breath.

"Well, mon frère," he puts his hands behind his back and allows the men, who look at each other in awe, to tie his wrists. "It's obvious our lovin' pere wants a visit avec moi, why deny him?"

"Do y' have any idea what your gettin' yourself into?" Henri's eyes are wide with fright, he doesn't want to lose his brother after just finding him again.

Remy's smile softens. "Oui. Don' worry, I'll be back." He winks at a tearful Mercy. "Gotta come back an' see little Louis, non?"

They load him onto a clichéd, non-descript white van. Henri stiffens and rests his hand on Mercy's back.

"Get Louis ready. We're going to have a little _tête-à-tête _wit Papa."

* * *

He sits with his legs crossed and a cheshire grin in place. There were six of them. Two on his right, three on his left, and one driving. He could take out the two on the right almost immediately, but then he'd leave himself open to the crowd on the left-

"For de supposed best t'ief in New Orleans, y' sure not givin' us much trouble, are y'?"

Remy laughs along with the men and shrugs. "Guess I've become sort of a good boy wit age." He shifts slightly and leans back against the seat. "Any of y' hommes got some gum? Didn't get a chance to brush m' teeth."

They look at each other and the one that had mocked him earlier shrugs and digs in his pocket, retrieving a white sliver of gum and throws it at Remy.

"Mind unwrappin' it, homme? I'm a little _tied up _at de moment."

They all laugh at the bad joke and the man does as Remy asks. Grinning and nodding in thanks, the cajun munches on the gum, blowing bubbles and mulling silently.

"How much did dis van cost," he asks randomly.

"Don know, Jean-Luc pays for everyt'ing."

"Is dat so? I feel even less guilty now." He finishes loosening the rope binding his hands and rubs his wrists.

"What de-!"

He spits out his gum in one fluid arc, and it lands in its designated spot, right on the steering wheel.

Remy buckles his seat belt as they aim their guns at him. "I'd put on y' seat belt if I was y'."

"Shut de fuck up! Put y' hands where we can see dem!"

Gambit has just enough time to brace himself before the front half of the van explodes in flames and the vehicle swerves across the highway, toppling over an embankment.

When it finally rolls to a stop, Remy shakes his head at the bloodied, unconscious men. "Tol' y'."

He hops from the smoking mess, flicking a charged card behind his back as he mounts the hill. The men and remnants of the van disappear in one final blast.

Having gotten past all the defenses with minimal difficulty, Remy strolls into his adoptive father's office with a flourish of his coat.

He'd never seen Jean-Luc turn redder.

"Ha!" Theo jumps from his seat. "Twenty minutes, hand it over boys!"

The surrounding men grumble and reach into their pockets, handing the beaming Theo his money.

"Ten minutes," Henri whines, "why couldn't y' have taken _ten more minutes_?"

Jean-Luc is out of his seat before Remy can answer. "Less den twenty-four hours in New Orleans, an' y' already remindin' me of why I _danced _when de trials were over."

The mood turns somber and the men return to their respective chairs around the table.

"Less den twenty-four hours, an' y' remindin' _me _of why I laughed when y' broke y' hip doin' said dance, y' ole bastard."

Henri winces and pinches the bridge of his nose. Obviously, his brother hadn't learned how to be tactful in his time away.

He steps in before his father can get too angry. "Now, now. We didn't come here to argue, we came to talk."

"I didn't come here to do a damn t'ing." The hatred he'd always harbored for Jean-Luc returns with swift clarity. He hadn't forgotten his hatred, but he hadn't thought about just how much he loathed the old man in years. It comes back now, nearly choking him with its intensity. "_He _brought _me _here."

"What did y' expect, boy? Y' were tol' dat if y' ever stepped foot in dis territory, you'd be killed. De only reason y' ain't dead yet-"

"De only reason I ain't dead yet is cause of my skill. I'm de best dere ever was, an' y' stupid goons might have been able to beat me when I was a pup, mais t'ings have changed."

Leaning heavily on his cane, Jean-Luc rounds the corner of his desk. "Come here, so I can beat y' across de head wit dis stick! Never have I heard such insolence-"

"Where is he?" Muffled noises come from the hallway and then Tante waddles through the door, her cloudy eyes scanning the room and resting on him.

"Tante!"

He runs to embrace her, but instead of finding lips, his cheek is met with the side of a frying pan.

"Fou pup! Disappearin' all dese years wit 'out a card or call! We all know yo' lazy behind could a snuck here and visited moi!"

He rubs his cheek and glares at the sniggering Henri. "Mais Tante-"

"Mais Tante m' foot." She shakes her head and glares up at him. "Now bend over an' give me a kiss."

He smiles and leans forward, only to pause. "Y' not gonna hit me are y'?"

"If I do, it's non more den y' deserve."

He chuckles, "True."

They begged and pleaded. Shouted and cried, but Jean-Luc wouldn't have it. For hours they discussed his fate, and Remy felt like he was eighteen again, standing before the Guild Masters and sweating under their penetrating gazes.

He'd known nothing would come from it, that Jean-Luc's excuse: 'I won' have him makin' de Rippers angry. We've been peaceful all dese years an' it's gonna stay dat way.' was just a cover for his barley-concealed hatred. If roles were reversed and Henri was in this situation the old man would have done everything in his power to have his son returned to his side.

Remy doesn't begrudge Henri this, though. If anything, he pities him. To be tied down to the Guild forever, to spend hours upon hours in this stifling office- would have been too much for Remy. And to think, this had once been _his _destiny! Maybe things really did happen for a reason.

He holds Tante and Mercy, letting young Louis climb on his shoulders and wherever else he pleased. In the short amount of time they'd known each other, Remy had undeniably fallen in love with his nephew, and vice-versa. Much to Mercy's horror, he'd already taught Louis how to cheat in both poker and black jack. He was a 'Little Remy' in the making.

"Don' cry, y'all. Dis ain't de last time you'll be seein' my pretty face."

A teary-eyed Henri hands Remy an envelope. "Got y' some fakes and an unlimited credit card."

He raises his eyebrow and stuffs the envelope in his pocket. "Jeanny know about dis?"

Henri scolds him for using that name. "Suprisin'ly, oui. Y' may be an' ex-member, mais y' still a Lebeau."

Remy smiles and wraps his brother in a tight embrace. "I meant what I said, I'll be seein' y' again."

"I'll be holdin' y' to dat."

Gambit pulls away and takes one last look around. "Y'all let me know before de old man dies, d'accord?"

Mercy bursts into tears and shakes her head at Jean-Luc. "Y' should be ashamed, he wants to see y' before y' die like a good son, an' y' still kickin' him out!"

Remy snorts and laughs outright. "Y' kiddin'? I just wanna be dere to see him shit himself."

There are gasps and Remy disappears before Jean-Luc can change his mind about letting him leave unharmed.

_But, you won't find love in a, won't find love in a hole. It takes more than fucking someone to Keep Yourself Warm. You won't find love in a, won't find love in a hole. It takes more than fucking someone to Keep Yourself- See in the dark! Can you see the look in your face? The flashing white light's been turned off. You don't know, know who's in your bed. It takes more than fucking someone you don't know to Keep Warm. Do you really think that for a house-beat you'll find your love in a hole? ~ Keep Yourself Warm- Frightened Rabbits_

**

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**(1)- **Early New Orleans was originally centered around what was then called the _Place d' Armes_ (Spanish: Plaza d'Armas). After the Battle of New Orleans, in 1814, the _Place d' Armes_ was renamed **Jackson Square** after general Andrew Jackson. In the center of the park stands an equestrian statue of Jackson erected in 1856, one of three in America by sculptor Clark Mills. (Wikipedia-.-com)

**(2)- **old fool

This chapter was definately a lot of fun. I got to break away from the angst for a while and throw in some adventure and humor. I loved being able to explore Remy's emotions and reactions as he returned home.

Thank you to those who reviewed:

**Payla: **Thank you so much. To know that my writing caused you to 'experience so many emotions at once' maks me feel really accomplished as a writer.

**Crazyrightnow: **Yes. Rogue can touch because of Phoenix's influence in her mind. I wouldn't exactly call Rogue and Scott 'lovers', in all brutal honesty, Rogue was using him to distract herself from thinking about Remy, even if only for a few hours, but we'll discuss that more next chapter=) And to answer your question about TIAD: yes, Ashley/Joseph has left for war. Remy is still there, but sadly, he'll be leaving soon, too. =( See you next time!

**Sevenismyluckynumber: **Congrats haha. Yeah I whipped out the updates pretty speedily, eh? I'll try keeping it up! Yeah I would reccomend reading the responses, it was pretty...intense to say the least. And as usual, you manage to read my mind! Yes, the reason Rogue was willing to experiment with Scott and not Remy was because she's tooa fradi of getting hurt! But his, like many other questions, will get answered at a later time.

**Colorcoated: **So you were shocked? I'd thought from your reviews that you might have been one of the readers suspecting this to happen, but ahaha! It seems that I have shocked you! And Scott cheating on Jean so easily was actually hard for me to do, because I've grown up with always seeing Scott and Jean madly in love. But with this story, I explored a different side of Scott, that maybe he didn't love Jean as much as everyone seemed to think, maybe he felt _obligated _to stay by her side. So naturally, if he got the chance to be with the woman he really loved, he would definatley take the chance. It still doesn't make him any less than a jerk though. And as for Jean being 'sketchy', we'll just have to see where that goes. I can tell you were disappointed with Rogue's involvment with Scott( a lot of reviewers were, obviously) but I was trying to show just how much influence Phoenix is having over Rogue's mind. Also, I think Rogue was in shock. She didn't realize what she was doing, only that Remy had hurt her and she needed something to forget about that hurt. It does make her seem weak, because she _is _weak at this point in her life. Haha and I know I sound like a broken record, but I plan on exploring why Rogue lied to Remy at a later time. Good news: My bitterness towards Remy is starting to fade! While writing this chapter I just felt so bad for him that I couldn't help but wanna hug him! Honestly, I can only resist his charm for so long! Haha I see a bright future for our business! And of course people wouldn't show up just because we have a hot, naked receptionist! They'd come for our talents as psychiatrists, duh!

**alliekat: **'Gumming up the works' I like that. I like that very much. And the characters of this fic are most definately not on the normal side, but that makes things interesting, non? I'm glad your interested and I hope to hear from you next time!

**Cassie**: Ahah so you knew? Poor thing, you saw what was coming and still tried to pretend it wasn't true! You obviously have some issues with denial, you should make an appointment at ColorCoated/Merr2 inc...but anyways- yes, remy's reaction will definately be intense, but I've got to get these two back together before I can concentrate on al these revelations!

**Ruroca: **The way you described your reaction was so incredibly great that I have to post it: _That affair was like someone opening up the curtains and sheets off early morning letting in_  
_the bright sun dance hard across your eyes and the bloody winter chil creep up on your body, that was brutal... So that is the secret that she was withholding, oh wow!! Better than some soaps! You got me, I knew something was up but man not something was "up". _Haha so funny! Your review actually made my day a lot better because it was so detailed and...funny! And yes, you are apart of my kingdom. Initiation is on thursday: be there...or else.

**Chellerbelle: **Haha thanks! And no, things are sucking for them. But they'll get better!...maybe.

**aiRo25: **Okay, so I guess your right. They did end up together. You have this ability, where you describe somehting so vividly that it makes it just as sad! By the way, I nearly wet myself when I saw that you'd posted the sequel!(But you probably didn't want to know that) Scott definately didn't show much support for his wife, that's for sure. I explained that a bit more in my response to ColorCoated. Don't want Remy to come back? Whaaaat? That's so sad! I guess with me, I'd rather have things end with them together than apart. That's why _go not to lethe _hit me so hard. I don't think this will end like that, in fact, I promise you: I, Merr2, solemnly vow that _Scorch _will not have an ending as painfully sad as _go not to lethe. _Thanks so much for your review, bring some extra kleenex for me!

**Bologna: **Your name has made me fall madly in love with you=). Awww what a sweet review. No need to apologize dearie, we're all friends here! Hope to hear from you next time.

**A: **Ouch. Haha- I don't really know what to say...I didn't mean for Rogue to come off as a slut, I just think that she would go to someone for comfort, because she's at a very weak point in her life.

**Randirogue: **To be honest, I almost took the cowardly route and skipped your response. Not because I'm offended, but because everything you said was true. I'd taken in mind what the Rogue/Scott scandal might do to the elegance I'd built, but for me, it just made sense. The first time when Rogue and Scott went behind her back, I tried thinking how Rogue must have felt when presented with her only chance at touch, at normalcy. And with Scott- in my universe, I've explored a different take on Jean and Scott's relationship- that maybe he feels obligated in being with her. The second time, the only excuse I can give for Rogue is that the influence of Phoenix in her mind had a big part in her decision to seek him out for comfort. Also, I think she honestly hated Remy for a moment, she wanted to hurt him, even if she'd never tell him about it. As for Scott: the only reason I can come up with for his decision is that he resents Jean. I think he feels that Jean is keeping him from being with Rogue, when, in reality: Rogue would stay with Remy even if Jean wasn't in the picture. Also, I wanted to show how deceiving appearances could be. Scott- the fearless, honest, leader. The good, selfless friend who puts others before himself, is actually a lying, careless adulterer that lusts after his best friend and feels bitter towards his wife. And Rogue- the innocent, untouchable woman who cares enough about others' safety to cover herself up and deny herself touch is actually secretive, she's actually willing to let go for one night and let herself give in to temptation. I plan on exploring why Rogue would lie to Remy, I can say now though that it has something to do with her wanting to protect him, and the image he has of her. While I agree that it may have reduced the spohistication, I don't think that if I had the opportunity to change it, I would. To know that for a while you compared me to the likes of the great 'Valerie J' and 'SLH', I'm _not _them, and consequently, I don't have their ideas. I'm Merr2, and that's all I try to be. Thank you as always for your heart-felt, thought-out review, they really make me think!

And there it is. Phew! I think I might be sweating! Good/Bad News: (depepnding on who you are) I've mapped out the rest of the story, a kind of rough outline. I'm thinking there will be 17 chapters, if not, somewhere around that number. That means we're done, soon folks, as I plan on finishing this fic within the next two months.

Lovingly,  
Merr2.


	9. Red Sam

Red Sam

_Here I stand, empty hands. Wishing my wrists were bleeding, to stop the pain from the beatings. There you stood, holding me, waiting for me to notice you. But who are you?You are the truth (you are the truth) Out screaming these lies. You are the truth (you are the truth) Saving my life. ~ Red Sam- Flyleaf_

**Summer 2010**

The lovely weather breaks. Grey skies and freezing rain take the place of sunshine and eighty-degree temperatures. Most likely, it was the result of Storm's grief. But Remy liked to believe that God was weeping for one of his fallen angels. That's just what she was, an angel. Nothing could ever make him stop believing that.

The sermon drags on. Empty words from a man who'd never met her, would never meet her. How could this man know the pain tearing through his flesh? He was paid to be here, he'd probably said these same words a hundred times to a hundred mourning families. It was pointless, it didn't matter.

Ororosqueezes his hand, he pretends he doesn't notice and shoves his hands deep in the pockets of his trench.

The sounds of mourning go on around him. They were crying, these bastards were _crying. _They had no right, they hadn't even fought in the end, they'd just let her slip away- but he'd done the same thing. He should have died before he let them convince him to- to- Scott attempts to hide his sobs behind his visor, but the tears leak from under it. Remy wants to tell him his hard jaw and squared shoulders weren't fooling anyone, they could all see the love he'd tried to hide for so many years.

They were all expecting him to react like Scott was, but he couldn't, he wasn't built that way. Scott's tears gave him relief, but Remy's tears drowned him. If he cried for her now, while the pain was still raw and fresh, he'd drown under the weight of it. He wouldn't be able to stop, he'd kill himself. And while the thought of sleeping for the rest of time seems appetizing, for once he won't be taking the cowardly route. He'll force his battered heart to keep beating and his burning eyes to keep opening and his worn legs to keep walking.

His life will serve as a penance for all the sins he's committed, and maybe, just maybe, whoever was up there would show him mercy and let him see Rogue, even if only for an instant.

When it's over and the Priest finishes, when the X-men return to the house one by one, when Ororocomes back for him and begs him to come inside, out of the rain, Remy falls to his knees.

An hour, two. He presses his face against her resting place, not concerned with the mud that inevitably smears across his cheeks.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, he opens his blurry eyes and sees wheels beside him.

"Did you know," Xavier murmurs, "that the Phoenix was a mystical bird?"

Was he doing this to torture him? Did the professor _want _him to crumple under the memories?

"It is said that whenever the Phoenix dies, it is only temporary. That she will always rise out of the ashes; reborn."

Remy turns tortured eyes on his mentor, for a moment he lets himself hope. And then he runs.

He leaves all his possessions behind and hops on a bike. It isn't his, but neither Logan or Scott would care.

He brings the collar of his trench closer around his neck to block out the cold as he bursts through the mansion gates. If only he'd left before she'd stolen his heart, if only he'd never shown up at this place in the first place. Perhaps if he'd accepted his place with the lowest of the low, he would have stayed away and wouldn't have tried pretending he belonged here.

There was nothing Xavier, or Ororo, or Jean or anyone else could say that could ease the stab in his chest.

It was done, _he _was done. He was done hiding his tears, he was tired of breathing.

It was over, _he _was over. He'd probably die in some alley; drunk, forgotten and uncared for.

Rogue. He needed Rogue. That mantra, how many times has he said it and gotten results? How many times had he said it and found her, waiting for him?

But he knows this time it won't work. Sure, he'll continue saying it for the rest of his life, but he'll only be causing himself more pain. That mantra had lost its purpose-

She's dead.

_The warmth of your embrace melts my frostbitten spirit, you speak the truth and I hear it. The words are 'I love you', and I have to believe in you. But who are you? You are the truth (you are the truth) Out screaming these lies. You are the truth (you are the truth) Saving my life. ~ Red Sam- Flyleaf_

She's dead.

Her heart doesn't beat, all she can taste is blood. Its thick saltiness chokes her, but her lungs burn too much for her to release a cough.

Red blood, pools of it form in front of her. Red pools on a black sky.

He cries for her, and things begin to dim. She screams his name, but the black water engulfs her and she can't breathe. Hands-no, claws dig their way into her skin and drag her down deeper into the pit. Her skin is on fire, she can smell her melting flesh.

Hell. This was hell…

She shoots to a sitting position, her baggy t-shirt is drenched and she pulls it away form her clammy skin. She can't see. She can feel that her eyes are open, but the only sight that greets her is empty blackness.

She brings oxygen into her lungs, then releases it slowly. This wasn't a new occurrence, there was no need to panic. She needed paper, and a pen. She kept those close by for nights like these, and as she fumbles blindly for her nightstand, she feels them.

She rests the paper on her headboard and scrawls desperately. The more she draws, the clearer her sight becomes, until, finally, she's Rogue again and she can see.

She falls back against her pillows, her weeping is silent and she bites her lip to keep it that way. This was the fourth time this week, never had Irene's psyche acted up so much. She'd always been one of the tame ones, in fact, there were many a time when Rogue wondered if she'd imagined the feeling of Irene's hand on her cheek. That night had been so disorienting after all- but she can no longer believe that. Nights like this were happening more frequently, and her already minimal amount of sleep is suffering even more.

She'd pretended at first. The images she saw were drawn and then thrown under her bed. She ignored the visions and signs, and went through everyday life. But she's no fool, she knows when the outcome of her future is being thrown in her face at every turn. She's doomed, she can't run from fate, can't escape her destiny.

Irene knew what she was doing all those years ago. She probably saw Phoenix, saw what would happen to the human race if she continued to live. Had her aunt really ever cared about her? Or had Irene known since her childhood that this would happen? Is that why she showed up on their door step randomly one evening? It was all too convenient for Irene to send her images of the bus station through the touch, even more so when she discovered the blondewoman waiting for her. Maybe she knew back then it was all set up, that Mystique wanted her and her aunt was all too eager to help achieve that.

It hurts her to know the one person she'd loved as a child might have not loved her, but it does not surprise her. She'd learned to accept the very worse that life could throw at her over the years, only…only Remy's departure isn't as easy to live with.

If she regrets anything in her life, it's losing Remy and that night with Scott. If she died tomorrow, she'd die happy if she could see Remy one last time and tell him the truth. The truth- god how he'd believed everything she'd said so easily! Every time he'd asked her about Scott, she silently prayed that he'd be able to read her, like he always did. The way she avoided his eyes or nibbled her lip whenever he asked her, all were tell-tale signs of what she'd done!

He cheated, but at least he was upfront with his affairs. If she asked he told, if she stayed quiet and pretended, so did he.

She burrows lower onto the bed and pulls the covers above her head. If only she could stop thinking and just sleep, if only she hadn't given in to her weakness and accepted Scott's hand…and only two weeks after he'd left! How could she? She could have at least waited awhile, waited for any sign of his return…

But it's been two months and there hasn't been a call, a word, a whisper of him. He was killing her, whether he knew it or not. She'd lost fifteen pounds, nine in the first month alone. She couldn't sleep, and the lack of food and sleep and daylight is starting to take its toll.

How long was she going to go through life sleepwalking? How many more excuses can she give Scott as to why she's avoiding him?

How much longer can she ignore destiny?

Tears prick her eyes and she leaves the bed, knowing her rest for the night (three hours) has been cut short.

Trailing her fingers along the trim of the French door, she opens it and steps into the chill January air. The moon looks as lonely as she feels. Why were all the stars so far from it?

Closing her eyes and raising her arms to the night, she calls for Phoenix, sealing her fate. The mass appears almost simultaneously, and wraps itself around the belle. It's been so long since she'd been held like this that Rogue can ignore what's really happening, what she's letting take place. And Remy...if Phoenix was back, Remy could return, too...

Let the pieces fall, let the puzzle connect, let her doomed future come to pass.

* * *

Jean knows almost as soon as Rogue enters the kitchen the next day.

She drops the book she'd been holding, she chokes on the orange juice in her mouth. And just like that long ago day, her placid eyes go wild and her terror is tangible. Before Scott can restrain her, the scream has already erupted from her throat and she's begging those around her to kill Rogue , kill Rogue!

The belle pretends to be just as shocked as everyone else, and when they carry Jean away she begins to cry, earning the pity and comfort of those around her.

She knows that the Professor will follow them to the med-lab, and that his mind will be connected with the red head's. Something like guilt pokes her, but she ignores it. She can think about consequences after Remy is back in her arms.

She can barley contain herself as she runs through the halls. She boards the elevator and takes it all the way down, to the restricted area.

Once there, she shifts into Xavier himself, then lets herself morph back when the retinal scan beeps and the doors open before her.

She places the magnifier over her head and using her stolen telepathy, activates cerebro.

"Ah'm comin' for ya, Remy, wherever ya are. Wait for me." She should have done this the very first day after Remy left her. She wasn't some sniveling, pathetic woman that let life bury her. She was the Rogue, she fought and scraped for what she wanted, and she wants Remy; more than anything.

She isn't expecting the torrents of thoughts and feelings that assault her all at once. Xavier's face always remained so serene whenever he used the machine, that she assumed the process was painless.

She was wrong.

So many voices, so many different personalities and situations. It was worse than when she'd absorbed all those people during her Brotherhood days, and hadn't known the comforts of mental shields. How was she supposed to find her man in all this confusion?

She braces her hands on either sideof the helmet and right before her eyes, a map forms. Thinking of the cajun, the map narrows from a world view, to just the U.S., then finally to one state in particular. The image zooms and zooms until she's in a warehouse in Seattle. She murmurs his name and sees him drop his cards. He turns and she can feel his confusion, his need for her…

She rips the helmet from her head with a cry, holding her head and wishing the hammering in her temples away. Phoenix offered to help, but the belle holds back her tears and declines. She had to do this on her own, without her help.

He'd wanted her, god, he _needed _her! The thought of his arms around her brings a smile to her lips, she can almost ignore the splitting of her skull.

"Rogue?"

The spell breaks and she finds herself staring at the Wolverine. With a shock, she realizes she'd neglected to close the heavy, metal doors behind her. He must have heard her from the med-lab, damn super senses…

She stands shakily and raises her hand to try and push him out using her telekinesis, but he shakes his head and comes forward.

"No dice, darlin'. Only telepathy works in here." He approaches her like he would a frightened animal. "What were you tryin' to do, kid?"

Panicking, she tries to run past him, but he catches her easily.

"Lemme go!" She wriggles and arches in his grasp.

"Calm down, Rogue! It's me, you know I ain't gonna hurt you!"

Flustered and spent, she sinks into his arms. "Please Logan, ya can't tell."

He shrugs and helps her up, somehow knowing she wasn't going to try and run again. "That depends on whether you spill the beans or not."

She resists the childish, but tempting urge to stick her tongue out on him. "Whaddyathink, shuga? My boyfriend is missin' an' ah happen to have a couple a telepathsrunnin' around in my head. Ya do the math."

He nods and pockets his fists. "Figured as much, just wanted to hear it from those pretty lips of yours." He faces the doorway, looking back at her from the corner of his eye. "You find him?"

Grinning, she attempts to swallow the rush of excitement that comes with the question. "Yeah. He's in Seattle."

"Thought about how your gonna get there?"

"No big deal," she waves her hand at the issue, "ah figure ah'lljust fly or somethin'."

"And risk gettin' tired and losin' control? I don't think so."

Her cheeks burn scarlet. "Yoahnot gonna stop me, I'm leavin' tonight and that's final!"

He chuckles and throws up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Never said I was gonna try and stop you. I was plannin' on offering my bike up."

She smiles sheepishly, only to raise her eyebrow. "Wait, _the _Wolverine is lettin' somebody else borrow his bike? To go out of state?"

"Funny, kid," he laughs heartily, "but no, I plan on drivin'."

Her amusement vanishes and she cocks her hip. "_What?!"_

He smirks and continues on his way. "I'll go talk to Chuck. Meet me in the garage when you're ready."

Her mouth is still ajar when he leaves. There was no way he was coming along. No, not happening.

* * *

It wasn't long before Remy got tired of relying on Jean-Luc's'generosity', and once he rented a room for another three weeks, he discarded the card and explored the dark underbelly of Seattle.

The word of Gambit being in town spread quickly, soon he was getting jobs left and right. One for a rich Russian in need of a priceless necklace, located in the vault of another rich man. It was the first big heist he'd pulled in years, and it almost surprised him how smoothly it played out.

Unfortunately, the jobs after that hadn't been very classy. He usually never got involved with heists that involved drugs, but the Mexican who approached him offered too much money for Remy to refuse, and in his months away from the X-men, it was easy to lose the shaky morals he'd managed to build in his time with them.

Taking another drag of his cigarette and adjusting his shades, Remy revs his bike down Bell street and turns onto 4th Ave, glancing nonchalantly at the building. The computer service didn't seem like much from the outside, but he knew from his nights spent observing it that that wasn't the case.

Pulling into a nearby Bar and Grill, the cajunparks his bike and jogs around back. Reaching his destination, he hops onto the dumpster and quickly climbs to the roof. Once there, he reaches down the metal vent and retrieves his pack.

The sun had only started setting a few minutes ago, and anyone from the other building could easily see him perched on the roof, binoculars in hand. But playing things safe didn't give him the kind of thrill he needs, so he decides to chance it. After all, his name wasn't 'Gambit' because he took precautions, it was his name because he took risks that no one else was crazy enough to take.

When nightfall hits he abandons his trench, revealing the black body suit underneath. He hops down from the roof, sticking to the shadows as he makes his way to the warehouse.

He'd noticed at least three guards at the front, two in the back, and five out-dated cameras scattered on all four corners. Other than that, the security was surprisingly minimal. He'll have this job done within the hour.

He's in the process of hooking the camera feed to a recording he'd done the night before when he hears her voice.

His cards drop from the wires he'd been sizzling, he smells her intoxicating aroma, he can feel the silk of her skin.

"Chere-?"

A beam of light falls in the space in front of him and he curses underneath his breath. He does a backward somersault and hides behind the brick chimney. The noises fade after a few minutes, and he slams his head back at his stupidity. Distractions weren't welcome, distractions got you killed. But her voice, it'd been so clear…

Like he'd predicted, he completed the job within the hour without a hitch. The work was good, it kept his mind from wandering to her.

He deposits the money in one of his many bank accounts and returns to his motel. He decides he'll celebrate tonight, and showers quickly and dresses even faster. He leaves the motel in black slacks and a navy blue shirt, he lets his auburn flow wildly over his eyes and about his neck. Hailing a cab, he asks the man to drive him to the best club in town. The man laughs pleasantly and does as asked.

The first thing his light-sensitive eyes catch when he enters the club is a pair of sexy legs and a head full of chestnut curls. His heart lurches in his chest before he can stop it. He knows the woman isn't her, just like none of the brunette women he'd seen around this damned town were her.

He needed a round of drinks and a femme to take with him, more so the latter. Two months of letting himself dream of green eyes in his bed; alone, was a couple months too many as far as he's concerned. The thought of having that sexy brunette- no. No brunettes. A blonde would do just fine. A tall, leggy blonde, with _straight _hair and _blue _eyes. No southern accent, no honeyed voice, and no innocence. Tonight he wanted a woman with enough sins to match his own. He wanted a woman with that hard look in her eyes, one that didn't play hard to get, one that didn't care enough about herself to decline when he took her against the wall around back.

Decision made, the cajun saunters to the bar and orders a rum and coke set. A blonde(she must have read his mind!) winks at him and he motions for her to come over. They flirt and force laughter and press their bodies against each other in just the right way. She knew the game almost as well as he did, but not quite. Licking his lips and letting her view his hypnotic eyes, his hand slips up her thigh. He knows how to end it quickly for a woman and when her body ceases to spasm she leans against him heavily, her fingers bunching in his sleeves.

He downs more shots, seemingly unaware of the pleasure he'd just caused her.

Six shots later, she finally raises her head from his shoulder and asks if he'd like to get out of here. He smirks and plants his hand on the small of her back. But before he can whisk her away and forget himself this night, her face pops into his mind, and stays their.

He slams the shot glass down and silently curses her for never leaving him alone, for constantly haunting him.

Two more shots and a disappointed blonde later, Remy returns to the motel, alone. There is only one woman he yearned for, and she's at a place he never plans on returning to.

* * *

Grumbling and knowing he can hear every curse she utters, the belle adjusts her backpack and wraps her arms around his waist. "What did he say?"

The Canadian lights his cigar. "You know Chuck, he wasn't exactly happy about it but he saw it comin'."

She nods and nibbles her lip. Once she found Remy she'd apologize to them all. She knows things are going to end, and when they do she wants to be on good terms with her almost-family.

They hear a cry over the roar of the engine and Rogue turns to find Scott running towards them. Logan laughs outright, but she feels dread fill her stomach.

"Figure I better leave you two alone."

"Don't ya dare," she hisses, but he dismounts the bike and returns to the garage anyway.

"Rogue?"

She has no choice but to look up at him, and when she does the love and worry etched into his features makes her sigh.

"The Professor told me you were leaving. Is this true?"

She nods. "Yeah. But ah'llbe back in a few days."

His shoulders slump, he'd hoped Xavier was somehow mistaken. "But-but why?" He's pretty sure he knows why, but he won't allow himself believe until it falls from her lips.

"Ah found Remy, Scott. Logan an' ah are goin' to get him back."

His nostrils flare. "He left by his own choice. If he wanted to come back, he would've been here a long time ago."

She gets angry, too. "Listen, ah didn't ask for yoahadvice, okay?"

He flinches, but reaches for her hand anyway. "But Rogue, what about…us?"

She expected this but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. "There is no 'us', shuga. Just Rogue, and just Scott. Separate."

"No," he shakes his head stubbornly, " you care for me, you can't say that you don't."

"Of course ah do, yoahone of my best friend's, you've always been there for me-"

"Friends," he huffs. "Friends? What about that night? Friends don't usually sleep together, Rogue."

She swings her leg over the seat and stands, shoving him hard in the chest. "Are ya crazy? Do ya want Logan to hear?"

He takes her shoulders in his hands. "I don't care _who _cares. I love you, Rogue, and I'm so tired of having to hide that love like there's something wrong!"

"But it _is _wrong. Think about yoahwife, think about Jean…"

"Jean." He looks away and for a moment she sees a brief flash of remorse. "I don't love her, you knew that from the very beginning."

"But ya married her, shuga, and that's a bindin' contract. Goin' around her back was…horrid. For God's sake, she'd just woken up from a coma and we were in the bed ya share withher!" Tears fill her eyes, she turns from him when he tries to wipe them away.

"And Remy…how will ah ever tell him? He left because he felt like he had to. Instead of tryin' to convince him to come back, ah-"

"You loved me long before he came into the picture! Why can't we go back to those days?"

"Because yoahmarried an' ah love him."

Silence follows her confession. She feels the hands holding her shoulders tremble. Obviously, he hadn't known. He'd been so confident that Rogue still wanted him, that he thought nothing of her two-year relationship with Remy. After all, they'd broken up and argued more than anyone could count. Scott knew Rogue was very fond of Gambit, but love…? How? How could she love a man that hurt her so much?

"I'm…I'm so tired, Rogue." his head bows. "I'm expected to be strong all the time, to uphold the morals that come with being an X-man. But if you take away my visor and my uniform, I'm just a normal guy. I make mistakes, and Jean was one of them. There was just so much pressure- from Charles, from our friends-" He shakes his head and pulls away from her. "If only I hadn't proposed, if for once I did what _I _wanted instead of what was right, I could have left her." He looks back up at her. "I could have you."

"But ya didn't, shuga." Her kind tone softens her words. "Ya made yoahchoice, and ah can't be the remedy to yoahdecisions. Ah wouldn't _want _to be. Ah'llalways love ya, ah'llalways remember what we shared, but Remy is the man for me. The _only _man."

Seemingly unwilling to accept what she says, he leans forward to kiss her.

Her small hands go to his chest and she shakes her head gently. "No, Scott."

For a horrible moment she fears he might get on his knees and beg her. But Scott is a proud man, it's what attracted her to him in the first place. His shoulders square, he swallows his emotions and she knows he'll never bring this up again. Not for his own sake, but for her own.

"Could I have a hug, then?" He manages a smile, she tries to do the same but it ends up being a grimace.

"Of course ya can, shuga." Warmthexpands her chest as their arms lock around each other.

"I love you, Rogue. I can't stop it, even if I wanted to."

She holds him even tighter. "Ah know," she whispers against his neck.

It ends just as abruptly as it began. Logan returns, grunting in awkward recognition at Scott, before he mounts the bike.

"You comin'?" He revs the engine.

She nods, managing to tear her eyes from Scott's. "Yeah, ah'm comin'."

They speed off and she weeps quietly into Wolverine's back. He squeezes the hands she's bunched against his stomach, knowing all but saying nothing.

* * *

Cold fear, numbing fright, terror that makes him shake, gut clenching dread, hair-raising trepidation…none of these could even come close to the horror that seeped into his very skeleton. Sabretoothmocks him through the bars and Remy can't even muster up a poker face or a witty comeback. All he can do is stare at the monster leering at him from its chair.

Its skin was nearly blue, its teeth jagged. And those eyes…dieu, how could people find _his_eyes terrifying when orbs like this monster's existed?

He grips the bars of his cage with quaking fists, a shuddering groan escapes his lips as he bows his head.

A fool. He'd been a damn fool.

He'd known, even through his drunken state he'd _known _there was someone in that hotel room withhim. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Remy isn't afraid of dying, but Sinister wouldn't kill him. No, he would cut him open and slice apart his innards like he'd done to hundreds of other mutants… mutants Remy himself had helped gather. Then he'd bring him back, only to torture him again. The cycle would continue on and on, thinking about how long it could last makes Gambit physically ill.

The scene before him is familiar. Riptide's hazy form jumping from one side of the room to the other; the sharp projectiles freeing themselves from his skin and lodging themselves in a target he'd set on a wall. Scrambler, perched on an table, that eerie smile on his face. The gleefully sadistic bastard was just _waiting _to get his disruptive hands on the cajun. Malice and Vertigo stood off to the side, each winking at him and blushing at old memories, neither one knowing what the other was doing. He hadn't seen Scalphunteror Harpoon, but he knows they were watching from somewhere. Large but carefully silent.

"It's like coming home again, ain't it, pretty boy?" Sabretooth'sfangs gleam in the darkness, Remy tries not to cower away.

"I been rollin' wit deX-men," he shouts over at Sinister, succeeding in keeping his voice steady, "deygonna come lookin' for me soon."

He only laughs, the sound is metallic. "My dear boy, do you really think I haven't been watching you? I know everything my friend. Your departure from the X-men, your trip to New Orleans-"

It's like a shower of ice, Remy's mind begins to unravel. This couldn't be happening, Sinister hadn't been able to get his claws back around him, not after all these years…

"Where am I," he manages.

"Essex Theatre." He rises from his chair and makes his way to Remy. "In the basement of Essex Theatre to be exact."

Breathing heavily, the cajuncloses his eyes and calls out for the Professor, for Jean, or Emma or Betsy, for _anyone._

"That won't help you, Gambit. These walls are reinforced witha special metal, effectively preventing any psionicscans or attacks."

Something wild and not all that foreign makes its way through Remy's veins. Escape, he needed to get out! He couldn't die like this, no matter how much he deserved it, not like this!

As if reading his thoughts, Sinister nods and the cage glows blue before opening.

Remy has no way of knowing what the madman has in store for him.

_My hands are open, and you are filling them. Hands in the air, in the air, in the air, in the air. And I worship. And I worship. And I worship you! You are the truth (you are the truth) Out screaming these lies. You are the truth (you are the truth) Saving my life. ~Red Sam- Flyleaf _

* * *

Remy in danger? Noooooooo!  
I had fun writing this chapter, but I'm not all-together satisfied with it. I'm paticularly concerned with the interaction between Rogue and Scott. I went over it again and again, but something still feels off to me. I wanted to convey Rogue's remorse over what she had done, and also voice some of the concerns you readers had, through her. On the other hand, I'm sooo excited to add some much needed Wolvie! Not only that, but if all goes well, Rogue and Remy will be reunited, woot woot!

Thank you to those who reviewed:

**ruroca57: **Love shouldn't be brutal, but you're right in saying that it usually is, especially for these two! And Remy has a past of constantly bashing himself for what he's done, it's so sad and this habit often prevents him from being happy, or accepting the love he's given. A lot of times, he doesn't see himself as worthy of having any happiness, which is just foolish! But I suppose after all the things he's done, it's expected that he'd feel this way. Hahaha, I can see you suffered through the Scogue, but as you can see from this chappie, they are going to remain just friends from now on. See ya next time!

**SevenIsMyLuckyNumber: **He really is, isn't he? Tortured, sexy, athletic, dangerous, awesome accent, mysterious past...he has all the makings of the greatest X-man ever lol! Now all he needs is a pretty femmeon his arm(Rogue) thtathe actually plans on keeping around, and everything will be perfect=) Thank you so much, original? Me? And while sad times suck, they make the happy times even better!

**Cassie: **I did a crazy fan girl giggle dance, too! He's sooofreaking amazing. I once saw a comic where Remy was trapped, and spit his charged gum in the face of his captor. So awesome!

**Payla: **You're always so kind to me.

**Crazyrightnow: **Personally, I would NEVER want an aunt like TanteMattie, too scary! I mean honestly, she hit the poor boy with a _frying pan! _What if his pretty face had been damaged? Then what would all us crazy fans do? But, knowing the ragin cajun, he'd probably pull off the scar and become even sexier! Stupid swamp rat...

**ButterflyRogue: **Really? Gosh thanks! As a kid, I remember watching The animated series, when Jean is taken over by Phoenix, and thinking it was cool. But even then, I was a huge Rogue fan and kept wondering how much cooler it'd be if our souternbelle was the one in distress. Then, years later, I read _What If Ah _by: _Untouchable Goth._It was that ficthat really cemementedmy thinking process, and now, I got my lazy butt in gear and posted this. Your review was in no way unimaginative, it was really encouraging, as was the flattery;). I hope I can maintain the standard you have so far. I'm so glad your liking it, hope to hear from you again!

**aiRo25: **When I recievedyour review, my gaze wondered to the bottom and I saw: I've got more angst to dish on _Moments_...and I nearly cried. Of course, after actually reading through the review, I saw that that wasn't the case. Phew, I was real worried for a sec there! Unfortunately, it's a package deal right now: Remy AND Phoenix, or nothin'. It'd be a hard decision to make, I'm glad I don't have to! Personally, I don't think Remy is past redemption, close, but not quite. We saw in this chapter that he's begun to revert back to his old ways, hopefully Rogue can swoop in and bring him back in time. Phoenix's offer was indeed tempting, and I imagine it took a LOT of strengthto refuse. But by refusing, he's showing that he still has a conscience, therefore hinting that he's still saveable! And remember, just because I've revealed something that _seems _like the ending, doesn't _mean_it's the ending...and that maybe the tears you'll shed at the end will be happy tears.

**Laceylou: **I agree that the 2034 scenes are the most painful, because inbetweenthose scenes it's easy to forget and hope that maybe things will work out fothem. And then BAM: you see Future Remy and are reminded that things don't work out in the end. He doesn't have Rogue by his side, he doesn't love the woman he's married to, and he goes through life withbarley any joy. You're right in saying that the way he's living isn't even living, but what can we do? The mistakes he madeas a young man are a constant reminder in his sad life. Losing Rogue is probably the most intense of these regrets. Lolglad you enjoyed his visit to New Orleans, soooomuch fun to write! It was nice to add some fun, since I'm a person who likes to laugh, instead of angst, angst, angst all the time.(that may not be the case withyou, seeing as you have an angst addiction and everything) I once saw this comic witha picture of Remy trapped, and ever resourceful, he spit his charged gum into his captor's face and escaped. Whattaguy! I just adapted it a bit and madeit my own. Oh, and thanks for awknowledgingour marriage, instead of-you know, contacting the police and telling them I was a stockeror something...it really is a functional relationship if you think about it: I give you angst, and you give me awesome reviews that make my day!:o)


	10. Friend of the Devil

Friend of the Devil

_I lit out from Reno, I was trailed by twenty hounds. Didn't get to sleep that night 'till themorning came around. Set out runnin' but I take my time. A Friend of the Devil is a friend of mine. If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight. Ran into the Devil, babe, he loaned me twenty bills. I spent the night in Utah in a cave up in the hills. ~Friend of the Devil- Grateful Dead_

**January 2003.**

His family cast him out, seemingly without a second thought. For two years he'd wandered around, doing odd jobs and struggling to survive.

He doesn't remember what exactly happened that night in the bar, he'd been too busy trying to drown his sorrows to pay a lot of attention to his surroundings.

He remembers thinking the man was abnormally tall, had to be at least seven feet. And although he wore a heavy coat, his form was still visible and it looked strange. His shoulders were too broad for a normal man, his large, solid body was nearly intimidating.

It was then Remy looked up into the man's face, shivering at the bluish, hard skin. He couldn't see his eyes due to the shades he wore, Remy knew what _that _felt like.

The man began speaking to him, but he can't seem to recall the words. All he managed to decipher was that the man was a mutant, and a scientist. This man was requesting Gambit's 'services.' In exchange, he would not only pay, but he would offer the cajun the opportunity to 'go down in history'.

Remy didn't care much for the fame aspect of it, but he was tired of running and his funds were dwindling. He said yes, and unknowingly signed his life away.

It was a simple enough job at first. He mostly stole blueprints and machine parts from various locations. Soon, though, Sinister told him he wanted subjects, mutant subjects. Of course Remy refused, but Sinister told him he was only trying to help them control their powers. Hating his own eyes, the cajun agreed and gathered various mutants who said they were having troubles with their abilities.

When the subjects went through those metal doors and never came out, Remy knew instinctively that something had gone horribly wrong. That he was leading those poor people to Sinister like sheep to a wolf. He left soon after that, making sure to destroy the madman's lab in the process.

Sinister came to him again. Remy remembers the night in detail, because he'd never been so terrified in his life. Instead of killing him, Sinister told him he was making good on a debt the cajun had caused him. He told Remy he wanted a team of mutants, not for the experiments, but for his own use. He not only wanted them to be strong, but he wanted them to be outcasts and desperate souls; much like Gambit was.

The team was gathered and Remy was free to go. At least, that's what Sinister had said, but Gambit couldn't help but feel the ties that still remained, whispering against his skin and making him itch. He couldn't help but feel some camaraderie towards the man, he'd been the most stable thing in his life for the past year.

And so Remy tells him he'll go on this last mission, and they could end on good terms. He'd never seen the man's smile turn so predatory.

The events in the tunnel still haunt him, and always will. He hadn't known till the last minute what was happening, he hadn't known a civilization of mutants were trying to make a living down there…the only thing Sinister told him was he needed a new location, and their might be some resistance.

He'll never forget that helpless despair when the massacre began. So much blood, pints and pints of blood…children and women screaming, the snapping of men's bones- they fought, they fought with all they had, but when Marauders wanted something done, it was done. Remy _had _chosen the team well, too well it seemed.

He knew without doubt that it was his fault, knew the lives of all those doomed people were on his hands, forever. He couldn't think over the stench of blood and sewage, couldn't take the guilt….

Of course his first reaction was to run.

_Set out runnin' but I take my time, a Friend of the Devil is a friend of mine, If I get homebefore daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight. I ran down to the levee but the Devil caught me there. He took my twenty dollar bill and vanished in the air. Set out runnin' but I take my time. A Friend of the Devil is a friend of mine. If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight. ~Friend of the Devil- Grateful Dead_

Of course his first reaction was to run.

The doors of the cage barley have enough time to open before the cajun barrels through, somehow avoiding Sabretooth's deadly claws. Taking a glance to his right, Remy sees Sinister's grin, he knows the chase has begun. It takes him only seconds to retrieve his deck and fling the miniature missiles towards the wall, effectively creating his escape to another room.

The smell hits him as soon as he goes in, and he knows he'd picked the wrong room to hide in. The smell, just like all those years ago…

This is where Sinister kept the poor subjects of his ghastly experiments.

He trembles and quakes, trying desperately to block out the moans and gargles from the mangled bodies of mutants. Or at least, what was left of those mutants.

His eyes travel to the back, to the staircase. A few steps, and he could make it. He could escape with his life and other bodily parts. He could flee to the X-men, he could see his chere…Rogue. He needed Rogue.

It's the thought of her green eyes that ultimately stops him. Because those compassionate green eyes of hers could not look on these tortured souls and simply walk away. Rogue was brave, she'd never just leave them-

He growls in frustration but begins blowing off the locks anyway. He was going to get himself killed, and for what? The respect from a woman he'd promised never to see again?

He grabs the withered arm of one man and hauls him up impatiently, trying not to wince at his emaciated form.

"Come on, get up! Run!" He shakes him, but the man only looks at him from shrunken eyes.

It's then Remy looks around, his chest falls. They were all like this, they were all too weak and battered and mutilated to even care about escape. Some of them didn't even have legs to run on.

He nearly vomits. And to think, there'd been a time when he'd actually gathered mutants for this same fate. If he'd ever felt completely damned in his life, this was the most profound moment.

The man wheezes something, to him it sounds like a helpless plea.

Nodding and willing the pain in his temples to cease, Remy kills the man in the gentlest, quickest way possible and lays his body on the ground.

Turning to the other prisoners, he sees a similar wish on all their contracted faces. And he knows that for once, he'll be killing in the name of mercy. It didn't make the concept any easier to swallow, though.

Before he can fully accept his duty as an angel of death, he feels a paralyzing hand on his shoulder. He spins around to the grinning, Asian man.

"Round one of the game is over Gambit, I've found you."

"Scrambler," he croaks, and then he succumbs to the man's static touch.

* * *

"We could find him faster if ya helped."

It doesn't move from its spot on the tree branch. Again it shakes its head. "No."

"Why not?" Rogue finally snaps, the thought of finding Remy making her impatient. "Ah'm gonna find him eventually, why not just make the process easier for everyone?"

It shrugs, eyeing its nails haughtily. "I gave you the ability to use the gifts of the psyches. Find your precious boyfriend on your own."

The belle grows flustered. "Ah- ah can't use them. It ain't right." She didn't deserve to use the powers of those she'd hurt, it was almost an insult to their suffering.

It raises its eyebrow. "Your so noble…" it snorts, going back to its brooding. "…its such a waste."

"Ya know," she growls, "if ah didn't know any better, ah'd say ya didn't want me to find Remy-"

It smirks, and Rogue wants to slap it across the face.

"Beautiful _and _smart. I knew you were the right choice."

"But…_why,_" the belle asks desperately.

Its eyes burn through Rogue's skin.

"Because you're _mine. _"

And then Rogue is pushed from her own mindscape.

Her eyes flutter against the harsh sunlight, she feels twigs snap and leaves crush beneath her weight as she props herself up. Her side protests at the movement, she goes over it with her hand.

Blood.

The werewolf-

She lifts her shirt, and finds three equidistant slashes across her hip, revealing the bone. The pain does not register, and she watches with disinterest as the fatal wounds heal within seconds.

Coming to her feet, she determines by the dull ache in her muscles and the dirt on her clothes that she must have spent the night outside, alone. But she'd remembered there being someone else…pain splits her skull and she screams.

Tears escape her tightly clamped lids and she takes in uneven, quick breaths through her teeth. Eventually, the grinding in her head subsides, and she takes a few staggered steps towards the light that breaks through the tree line.

_Where the hell am ah?_

When she breaks through the forest, she's greeted by an enormous meadow. An enormous, _empty _meadow.

She scans over the swaying grass in every direction, but sees nothing. No people, no mode of transportation, nothing to give her any clue as to how or why she's here, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. If only she could remember…the agony returns but through it, she manages to see the broken pieces of her memory float in front of her.

_A man with a red slash across his eyes…_she remembers the feel of his arms around her.

_A feral beast, gritting his teeth beneath her…_the blood on her shirt.

_Darkness, her hand moving across a flat surface…_she'd been blind, why hadn't she been able to see?

"_Chere-"_

The dam breaks, and washes across the hurt she feels. That name, his voice, those eyes- did she know this man? Her heart tells her she does, and slowly, she opens her eyes.

A tiny tug pulls at her chest, she looks off to the direction its pulling. The man with the burning eyes is all she can seem to think about, the other man with the slash across his eyes and the feral werewolf fade from her thoughts. Harder and harder she concentrates on the sound of his voice, she had to find him, she'd always wanted to find him-

She rises from her feet, but does not feel fear or apprehension.

She knows she will find him faster this way. The man with the burning eyes. The man she doesn't remember.

The man she is in love with.

* * *

"Professor?" Even in her own fragile state, Betsy can still sense the change in the air. The way his fingers pressed harder into her temples, the way sweat broke across his forehead. He was not at peace, and something was horribly wrong.

"B-Betsy," his hands fall to her lap and she gathers them in hers. "I-it _can't _be!"

He was so white she was afraid he'd faint. "What is it? What happened?"

He turns to look her straight in the eyes. The lines in his face suddenly grow deeper.

"I can no longer sense Logan's presence."

* * *

He'd had nightmares about this moment. Horrible, sickening nightmares that kept him up night after night. It was as if his mind could predict the future, and he'd subconsciously known all along that the fate he'd unknowingly bestowed upon others would be his fate, too.

Now _he _was the one who was dragged behind those metal doors. _He _was the one stripped off all his clothing, ridiculed. It was _his _hair that Sinister shaved away. His arms, his legs, every inch of his body was bared. He was as hairless as he'd been in the womb.

They'd freed him from his cell again yesterday, and the day before. He'd known from the beginning that they'd just been toying with him, but that thought still did not squash the hope he'd felt. He'd been a fool to hope. He would never get away, he'd never see the Sun again, he'd never see Rogue again. If only…God if only. He could accept death if he could just feel her lips one more time. Then he could stop breathing, happily even.

"You needn't worry," His voice comes to Remy from somewhere up above, the light was too bright for him to look. "You will survive this surgery. You are an integral piece to the evolution of mutants, and I would never let a trivial thing like revenge influence my actions."

_He _was the one strapped to an unbearable metal slab. _He _was the one screaming and shouting for help. It was _his _hands and feet that were bound in metal cuffs. His desperation claws against his insides. The shit they'd injected in his arm made him feel like jelly, he couldn't conjure any of his abilities.

"Though I must admit," he lays each sharp tool on a silver tray, "I was furious when I found my lab in ruins."

He'd be sliced into by the same tools he'd helped steal for Sinister all those years ago. How cruel was fate going to be to him?

"I could never understand why you ran from the tunnels that night. After all, you'd seen so much death before in your life, even been the cause of some of those deaths."

He looks to the side, tries escaping from the restraints once more. He's long beyond panic. He's a man staring straight at his worst fears.

"Eventually," he holds the syringe up to the light and tabs the side of the chamber. "I discovered that I'd underestimated your humanity. You see, I'd thought you'd been broken, that you no longer gave thought to your actions."

Remy arches but it's of no use. He's trapped. He's at the mercy of a man who had no mercy to give.

"You still had a heart, and it troubled me."

He weeps, his bravery and pride leaving him, his dignity gone. "Essex, please. Don' do dis-"

"First I'll help you reach your full kinetic potential. You'll no longer be limited to inorganic substances."

He screams and thrashes, Sinister injects the unknown serum into his bruised wrist.

"And then," Sinister's small, sharp teeth gleam. "-I'll make it so you never have to worry about silly little things like emotions ever again."

Neither of the men notice the slight rumble that courses through the building.

* * *

He was in something he couldn't break through. His brute strength was not enough to free him, his muscles didn't betray him very often.

A curvaceous figure appears in the darkness. Two of the guards he'd seen earlier flank her sides. His keen senses tell him they aren't human.

With a flick of her wrist, the two men bow and return to the shadows. She turns to him, her shoulders squared and her chin raised proudly.

She was draped in violet and onyx fabric, something that looked like silk but wasn't. her arms were bare, decorated only in intricate bracelets and markings he'd never seen before. They were too beautiful to be labeled simply as 'tattoos'. The markings swept across her exposed neck, crept up her cheeks, and swirled around her sapphire eyes. The feathers atop her head trembled as she spoke.

"You must excuse our inhospitality, human. The dire situation we are in leaves no time for pleasantries."

He growls deep in his belly. "And just who the hell do you think you are?"

Her face does not lose its tranquility. "I am Lilandra, princess of the Shi'ar Empire, and you're going to help me."

He snorts, his eyes darting around to watch the movements of each individual. "And why would I wanna do that?"

"Because my people and I are the only things standing between her and the destruction of your Earth."

* * *

Her landing creates a twenty-foot wide crater. Cars swerve to avoid the deep hole, people scream, the buildings around her shake and sway.

She ignores all of this, and jumps from the crater in one fluid motion. Brushing rubble from her torn jeans and ratty shirt, she focuses on the tug in her chest and lets it lead her to him. His presence is so close, she's almost overwhelmed. She can smell what he smells- something sterile, blood. She can see what he sees- bright light, it hurts her sensitive eyes. She can feel what he feels- numbing liquid in her veins, despair…agony.

And that's when the rage blinds her and she knows she'll kill the person causing him such anguish. Because she hurts when he hurts, too.

She walks down the sidewalk, her eyes remain planted in front of her. No doubt the police would be called. Maybe the army even. No doubt they thought she was some kind of deranged mutant bent on destroying humanity. (it'd happened before) Once she found the man, once she had him in her arms, she could rest and be at peace. But until then…until then she didn't care what she had to do to stop him from suffering.

* * *

The sedative splashes over his senses and the room around him fades.

He inwardly cringes, knowing that when he wakes, he won't be the same man. He'll be just another one of Sinister's lackey's, with no will and no backbone. He'll finally be broken, the glow will leave his eyes, the spring will disappear from his step.

He wonders if Sinister will let him remember Rogue.

* * *

Jean clings to her husband. Her red hair sticking to her clammy forehead, her head lolling from side to side. Scott is the only thing keeping her upright, and he lowers her gently to the couch. One moment they'd been watching a movie, holding hands, pretending like always. The next she'd been screaming, clawing him like he was some kind of monster.

She goes silent.

"Jean…?"

"It's the Professor, Scott. He's-seen something."

Concern instantly makes him stiffen. "Is it Rogue? Oh God, if something happened to her-"

"If something happened to her- what? What would you do?" Her voice is soft, she's contemplating.

He squirms under her knowing, turquoise eyes. "We'll talk later, honey. For now, we've got to make sure everything's okay."

They both know there's only woman he's concerned about.

* * *

_Her hand tightens in his as they glance up the hill to the big white house. It was surrounded by a fancy iron fence. The gates were decorated with complicated designs._

"_This is it," she breathes. There is something false about her smile. "This is where ah grew up."_

_He doesn't give her an answer, he's too overwhelmed to come up with a response. She was bringing him to her first home, the place she was raised. In a way, she was letting him see her childhood. She was letting him inside, letting him peek into her past._

_It was more than he'd ever done for her._

_

* * *

_

She elaborates when he gives her no reaction.

"There is a mutant known by the name 'Rogue' within your midst, is there not?"

He winces at her name and the things he'd had to do in self-defense. He'll never know what triggered it, but something had snapped in the belle and she didn't care who or what she destroyed, himself included.

"It is understandable that you would not wish to discuss her with us. After all, I'm sure you consider her a comrade." She chances a step forward, her staff making a slight 'tap' as it hits the hard floor.

"But there is no doubt you and your companions have noticed a…_change _within her…"

"Listen, lady," he glowers heavily, "I don't know who the hell you are, or what the hell you want, but I got nothin' for you. So why don't you do yourself a favor and let me go before I get _really _angry?"

If she's intimidated it does not show. "I've already told you who I am, but I have not told you _why _I've brought you here. Perhaps if you gave me a chance to explain, you would see that our interests meet."

Another step towards him. "I would like this meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for I do not want to make enemies of the humans. However, if you do not see to reason, I'll have no other option but to force you to listen."

He smirks. "I always did like the violent broads."

She frowns, and for only an instant her calm is rippled. "This is nothing to joke about. Right now, your friend is wandering around, with the most powerful being of all the galaxies festering within her!"

"Rogue's a tough kid, one of the toughest I've ever met actually." He stays unruffled. "She'll make it through this, just like she's done with everything else."

"You fool," she snaps. "The girl you knew is no more. She's doomed, human. Death is her only fate, and I plan on carrying through with destiny. It would be most helpful if you Earthlings were on our side, but your disagreements will not deter us from our mission. Phoenix has strayed from her true obligation. If we destroy the body that houses her, Phoenix will die with it. There is no other choice."

* * *

The gates open for the woman without even a lift of her hand.

The heavy doors make way for her as well, as if somehow knowing she was on a rampage.

The closer she gets to the man, the more she feels his fear. Waves of power pulsate around her, her emerald eyes turn saffron, nearly blinding in their intensity.

A black, thundering aura surrounds itself around her small frame, and she ignores the staircase. Instead, she grits her teeth and she rips up the floor in one crushing, epic pull. The floor boards groan as she discards them, she hears the terrified screams of the insignificant individuals below.

With a sweep of her finger they turn to nothing but dust. The wind carries them away within moments, to be deposited across the city.

When she breaks through the last wall, she can feel his burning presence, she cannot remember him but her heart aches and she somehow knows she needs him.

The devil man is all that stands between them. He is facing her, a scalpel in his hand.

He knows his life is coming to an end.

_Got two reasons why I cry away each lonely night, the first one's named Sweet Anne Marie, and she's my hearts delight. The second one is prison, babe, the sheriff's on my trail. And if he catches up with me, I'll spend my life in jail. Set out runnin' but I take my time, A Friend of the Devil is a Friend of mine. If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight. ~Friend of the Devil - Grateful Dead_

* * *

And finally, a real plot is created :)

_O_kay, first things first. I apologize profusely for taking so damn long to update. There was a mixture of sickness, writer's block, school, partying, and just down right laziness involved. (At least I'm honest with you guys, that's gotta count for something, right?)

The choppiness kind of annoyed me, personally, but it was a necessary evil. And so many new twits this chapter! Rogue's memory seemingly gone, Logan being held prisoner by Lilandra (can't have a good Dark Phoenix fic without some good ole cosmic drama) Remy...bald!!! He's still sexy tho. So many gaps and not enough information to fill them, AND I left you all with a cliffhanger. That's just poopy!

Remember that laziness I mentioned earlier? Well its carrying through to the responses. I'll probably go through and answer all the reviews individually, but for all of you who reviewed and don't have an account, there's not much I can do :( I'm just too tired to post in on this chappie.

But, I will go ahead and thank **Cassie, aiRo25, SevenIsMyLuckyNumber, Ruroca57, Laceylou**, and** Payla. **You guys really do make my day, and encourage my lazy butt to update. Without you all, I just don't know what I'd do!

Please review, I promise to get back to you soon.

Lovingly,  
Merr2.


	11. Angels and Demons

Angels and Demons

_Dreams -- sensations you prove, are taken from nature. You find those emotions are true in your mind. Fight against the kingdom of fear. Sooner or later they'll try to convince you are wrong, but I'm sure.. We're just crawling. Angels and Demons disguised the truth. You don't know so try to be sure. ~Angels and Demons- Angra_

**Paris, 2014**.

She pulls her white coat tighter against her willowy frame. The hand she uses to hold the umbrella trembles slightly from both chills and nerves as she trots down the cobbled street. Her footsteps echo hollowly off the brick buildings. It's so quiet she can hear each one of her breaths with startling ease. Everything is dark, besides the sidewalks, which are bathed in a dim, flickering light from the street lamps.

Alone she walks, trying to forget the disapproval of her friends back home, trying to forget the desolate ache in her chest, trying to forget that Remy left for a reason and probably never wanted to see her again.

She'd tried not feeling bitterness towards the deceased belle, truly she had. Rogue was dead too soon, just when she'd been able to control her gifts, just when she and Remy had started to get their relationship on the right track…but it's of no use. The petty jealousy and anger she'd had are still there, and though they're buried deep, she hasn't been able to stop wanting Remy and honestly, she'll probably never be able to let him go.

It was this love for him that causes her to silently seethe when she thinks of Rogue. She'd killed Remy when she'd died, he would never be the same man again. If she hadn't let Phoenix back, she would not have been killed, she could have prevented Remy's death as well.

Because he was a walking corpse. She hadn't seen him in years, his ability to disappear when needed amazed both she and the X-men, but she can imagine how horrid he must look, must feel.

Stopping her musing and glancing down at the tiny slip of paper in between her fingers, she makes sure the numbers match the ones on the small building before her. It had taken her near violence and a couple favors, but she has Remy's latest address and it fills her with both joy and dread. Because once she saw his dimmed eyes, once she had to see how far he'd fallen, it would hurt her, make her physically ill.

She hides an excited smile and swallows back tears as she mounts the first step.

How could two contrasting emotions plague the heart all at once?

_When your Angels and Demons arise, face the Truth: God is not love! Feel as fluid as life, love is a rainbow. As much as it seems to be real, it's all in your mind. Sooner or later I'm gonna convince that the truth is a lie. There's no Judge when we die, only dust. ~Angels and Demons -Angra_

How could two contrasting emotions plague the heart all at once?

Relief and horror clash in his chest like lighting. He was saved, but she was the one rescuing him. He got to see her again, but her emerald eyes were no where to be found. Sinister was undoubtedly dead, but it was her smirk that twisted across her red lips as blood spewed from Sinister's chest. It was her fist that clenched closed, crumpling the man's entire skeleton in half. It was her mind that threw away his broken body like yesterday's trash.

His metal restraints loosen, seemingly by themselves, and he sits up, shaking with relief. He'd come so close to really losing this time, he'd almost lost the gamble.

Right before his eyes, she transforms and is Rogue again. But, for a moment, no recognition registers on her face. She didn't know who he was, she didn't remember him…

"Ah don't know why ah'm here," her voice wavers, she bites her lip. The fire crackles as it devours the wooden foundation of the theatre, the smoke makes him cough and his eyes water but he cannot seem to move. He can only watch her.

"-but, but ah saw ya, ah _felt _ya. Whoever ya are, ah was meant to find ya." A look of curiosity flickers across her features, and slowly, she moves forward, her bare hand poised to touch him.

"_Remy_," she whispers. "Yoah name is…_Remy_."

It happens before he can stop it, and he melts into her touch. His arms wrap around her, his lips find her forehead.

He'd failed. It was obvious Phoenix was back, Rogue was so stubborn it wouldn't surprise him if the belle had invited the damn thing back herself! Was it wrong to feel some sort of happiness in this situation? He knew it was selfish, he knew that Phoenix caused danger to Rogue. This was wrong, whether it allowed them to be together or not.

But as her finger tips wander across his bare head, he can't think about the consequences of her arrival.

"Ah remember…ya havin' hair."

"Oui, dats sort of a recent t'ing-" He takes her hand and kisses each individual knuckle. He stops when she shivers. "Y' okay, p'tite?"

Nodding, she brings her hand back up to his lips, wanting him to continue. "Ah'm fine. It's just, it's just that ah think a block's been broken. Ah'm rememberin' things-" She hides her frown in his chest. Broken memories and bits and pieces of thoughts float back up to her conscious mind. Remy left her…she had to find him…the werewolf in the woods, had she known him? A terrible pain…and then, nothing. Everything went blank, she could conjure up no more memories.

His harsh cough reminds her of the state of the building, and she takes his hand.

They land in a park a few miles away, the smell of brimstone replaces the odor of smoke.

He kneels and takes deep breaths, teleportation was not easy on one's stomach.

When the dizziness fades and he's able to stand, he turns to find her watching him with utmost concentration, twirling a leaf with her thumb and fore finger and leaning against a tree. For a moment they search each other's eyes, giving nothing and receiving nothing. He'll never tell her how terrified he'd been or how close to death he'd come, she'll never tell him how easy it'd been to kill those mutants and Sinister, or how painful the return of her memories was.

"What happened, Rogue? Why can't y' remember nothin'?"

She shrugs and sits, patting the spot next to her and motioning for him to do the same. "ah don't know. Ah woke up a few hours ago, not knowin' where the hell ah was or why ah was there-" she thinks about the blood and slashes across her hip. "-or what ah'd done. All ah remembered was yoah voice, and that ah had to find ya, no matter what…" She snorts, bringing her knees to her chest. "Of course, ah'm startin' to recall that ya _didn't _want to be found."

He avoids her gaze, instead looking to the ground in front of him as he rips up a few chunks of grass.

"Do y' remember why I didn't want to be found, chere? Can y' blame me?"

"Yes, ah can." But her smile betrays her words. She leans against her cajun lover, burying her face in his neck and reveling in the feel of his pulse, his steady breathing. He was alive, and she doesn't know what she would have done had she been just a minute later-

The wind blows her silken curls across his chest, reaching all the way to brush against his other arm. Her hair was longer, and she was thinner, too. Had he really been away for that long?

"Two months," she says against his neck, as if hearing his thoughts. "Ya missed Christmas, missed New Year's, even missed Valentine's day."

She remains calm, but he can hear the turmoil just beneath the surface.

"It's all comin' back now, the way ah hurt, the way ah hated ya- but how ah couldn't stop lovin' ya at the same time."

She curls her fingers through his, she grins when he squeezes back and turns his head to look at her. His crimson orbs pulsate and throb, she'd never seen eyes so beautiful.

"All that doesn't matter now. Ya know why?"

His remorse chokes him for a moment, and when he finally speaks, his voice breaks.

"Cause ah have ya back, swamp rat." She leans forward until their foreheads connect. "And ah'm never lettin' ya go again."

Her hands go to either side of his face, and their lips mingle hungrily.

They break apart after a spell, but instead of catching her breath and continuing like he so wanted to do, Rogue slaps her knee and laughs.

He pinches her sides until she yelps and begs for mercy.

Somehow, they've slipped back into their old routine: it was like he'd never left, and she didn't have this thing inside of her. They were pretending just like always, and they both know it. Their method of coping was not helpful, and not even remotely healthy, but it's what they've always done. Their pain and troubles are like weeds, and instead of finding and destroying the root, they cover it with pretty roses and daises, friendly banter and light flirtation. But, they both know that some day, their pretty garden will be completely infected with the weeds. And that, when that day comes, it will be too late to salvage their roses and daises.

"Now tell me," he drawls lazily, "which are y' laughin' at: de fact dat I'm as bald as de Professeur, or de fact that your makin' out with a naked man in de middle of a park?"

"Both," she decides, and takes to the air. "Ah'll be right back with some clothes, shuga."

"Promise you'll hurry?" He hides his apprehension well, but she's become more observative over the past few months. He was afraid she'd forget about him, or that she'd change her mind about loving him and never return.

He was an idiot.

She places another passionate kiss on his mouth. "_Promise. _" She smirks. "Ah'll bring ya a hat, too."

"Ha-ha. Make fun of de bald guy," but he's grinning just as brightly as she is.

* * *

The hand Jean keeps on his shoulder is like an iron vice, yet comforting at the same time. He'd pleaded with her for the past couple hours to go upstairs and rest, but she wouldn't have it. She sat in the chair next to him with her back straight and a determined glint in her turquoise eyes. She was a proud woman, no matter how exhausted she felt, she would not let any of them know it.

Scott can't help but look at the woman he married and feel admiration. As for himself, he can barley keep from jumping up and yelling in the Professor's serene face. He couldn't understand how Charles took this whole thing in stride. Logan's presence was missing and they couldn't get a lock on Rogue. Weren't they afraid?

The cold, rational part of his brain tells him that yes- they were all probably as apprehensive as he is right now, but they were just hiding it. Why couldn't he? Where was Cyclops: the clear-headed leader?

For the first time in a long time, Scott craves the warmth and comfort his link with Jean had given him. But like their marriage, that reservoir had long since dried up.

After what seems like days of silence, Xavier lifts his head and removes the helmet. He and Jean each hold their breath.

"Follow me into the war room, I'm sure the rest of the team will like to hear this as well."

The two X-men exchange glances over their mentor's head. Xavier gave nothing away with his expression, they have no idea what to expect.

A mental 'telegram' is sent to the inhabitants in the mansion, and it takes only minutes for the present members to gather in the war room. Each individual chooses their seat around the metal table, each with varying degrees of anxiousness on their faces.

Charles wastes no time on dramatic silence. "There is good news, and there is bad news." He sighs, and staples his fingers. "Logan and Rogue are alive, and as far as I can tell, Remy and Rogue seem to be together."

There is a tangible loosening of all the bodies in the room. However, they are still prepared for the bad news the Professor must deliver.

"The bad news is this: though I've been able to sense Logan, the signal was dim and I have not been able to make direct contact with him. The telepathic energy surrounding him is enormous, and the distance between him and us is great."

"How great, Professor?"

He does not answer at first. "Not on this earth, my dear Kitty."

Her mouth falls open in stunned silence and her teammates gasp around her.

"How is that even possible? Could Rogue have…"

Xavier shrugs helplessly. "At this point, I can only hypothesize. The static around him is different from both Rogue's and Phoenix's, leading me to believe this is the work of some outside interference."

"But…" Scott grows more and more concerned. "Who? And for what purpose?"

"I can only hope this and more questions will be answered when we retrieve Wolverine."

Kitty gulps. "You mean, we're like, going into space…?"

"That is the plan, my dear. I plan on enlisting the help of both Forge and-"

Beast enters with stacks of loose paper escaping his hands and pockets. "That may be unnecessary, Charles. If the readings on the satellites are correct, which they always are, well, besides the unfortunate incident with Mr. Drake freezing the receptors on the roof last summer-"

"Please, Hank. Stay focused."

The furry doctor clears his throat sheepishly and continues. "Pardon me. Simply put, the receptors are picking up massive movements approximately five miles outside of the hemisphere-"

"Meaning?" Scott snaps.

"An unidentified air craft with incredible power is on its way to earth. Towards _us _to be more specific."

You could hear a pin being dropped.

**Paris, 2014.**

The gut-wrenching feeling that'd plagued her during the flight returns with near brutality. She shivers and the downpour outside increases and pounds relentlessly against the tin roof. Her emotions are in too much torment for her to even _attempt _calming the weather.

Up the narrow staircase she goes. The steps creak and the buzzing light washes everything in a sickly, yellow glow.

She reaches the room. She can't help but begin to re-think her rash decision to come here. What if Logan and the others were right? Could her long-time friend and unrequited love really be too far gone to save? Perhaps they were right, but she finds herself not caring. She knew the very day of his disappearance that she could not rest until she found him, and at least tried helping him.

She knocks, and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

She tries again, this time much faster and more rapidly. Still nothing.

"Remy?" She knows there won't be an answer, because even if he had heard her, he probably wouldn't come to the door.

And so she has no choice but to break in. She still knows how to pick-locks, that particular talent is something she can never forget. It takes only minutes, the lock is poor quality and her growing adrenaline rush makes her mind sharper.

The door creaks horribly as she pushes it open, and she winces at all the noise it makes.

"Remy?" Her voice goes into the darkness and disappears.

She chances a step inside. "Remy?!" She shouts, knowing that if he's here, he had to of heard her.

Sure enough, a pair of glowing orbs appear from no where. A light flips on, she gasps at this ragged, thin man. This can't be Remy, not _her _Remy.

But he was never hers, was he?

His face remains expressionless. "Never thought I'd be seein' y'all again. De rest of dem with y'?"

She can barely hear him above the roar of her heart. "N-no. just me."

He nods, and heads to the tiny kitchen. "Wanna beer? S'all I got."

This is not how she'd imagine this meeting would go. She'd expected hugs and tears, maybe even kisses...but not this. Not his detached demeanor. Five years he'd been gone, and the only thing he can do is offer her a beer?

She shakes her head, and looks around the one-bedroom apartment. Beer cans and other various liquor bottles littered the cracked floor. His blankets were strewn carelessly across the dirty-looking sofa. The ashtray was completely overflowing, some buds flowing over onto the small table it rested on. Judging from the smell of the place, he hadn't cleaned in years, if ever. And judging by his own appearance, he hadn't been cleaning himself either.

The thought of the proud, handsome man he'd once been compared to what he'd become makes her head throb, and she begins to weep into her hands.

She hadn't expected it to be this bad. She hadn't expected to find him in this decrepit state.

She'd greatly underestimated his love for the belle.

* * *

She'd greatly underestimated his love for the belle.

Everything she'd told him about the current situation seemingly went in one ear and out the other. He was unconcerned that the woman's mental state was entirely unstable, or that she could destroy both him and his family. The one known as Wolverine stayed extremely loyal and protective of the woman, and Lilandra knows she will not be able to deter him from protecting her.

She can only hope some of his teammates will see the truth in her warnings, and join her quest.

But she doubts it. If the rest of the X-men are like this one, this mission will be even more difficult than she'd originally planned.

"How much longer?" He leaned against the jelly-like wall, his restraints long removed. He puffs a cigar, despite Lilandra's voiced dislike of smoke.

"We'll reach your home within minutes. Our ship has sent a message to your people, hopefully they will let us land without aggression."

"Once they find out what's happened…"

"We'll come to that when I meet with them, won't we?"

Shrugging, he decides not to push the lady any harder. After all, she and her strange crew had treated him decently, and that's something a prisoner couldn't expect often.

Hell, if only the woman hadn't been trying to off his teammate, he'd like to get to know this princess a little better…

"Majestrix," a uniformed man enters the room, arm across his chest. "They have granted access. We'll be landing in two minutes and counting."

"Very well. You're dismissed."

The man nods and bows again, sending a curious glance to Logan before departing.

"You really need to get those suckers a new get-up. They look like damn fools."

She turns to regard him harshly, but a smile breaks across her pale lips before she can stop it. "They do not wear those uniforms for fashion, Logan, they wear them for practicality and the representation of our nation, Aerie-

"Yeah, yeah. You told me that earlier, remember?"

"I recall that conversation, yes. What I do not understand, is how you find it acceptable to judge them, while your uniforms are made of…'spandex', I believe it's called."

He raises his eyebrows. Well would you look at that, maybe miss Ice-Princess had a sense of humor after all.

"_Prepare for landing." _A voice drones on the intercom.

Lilandra nods to a seat next to her, and Logan follows suit.

The massive ship somehow fits in the hangar, and Logan can see the X-men from the window, uniformed and ready for whatever came their way.

They land and the door drops open. Logan steps out, putting some of his teammates' worries to rest.

Lilandra is close behind him, two guards on either side of her. "You must be Charles Xavier. What an honor it is to meet you."

"The honor is all mine, your highness." He takes her hand and places a kiss on it. If Logan didn't know any better, he'd think 'ole Chuck was flirting with the broad.

When the rest of the introductions are made, Xavier invites Lilandra and her escorts inside, to a 'more comfortable place for discussion'. Their politeness is only a cover for the discomfort they feel.

"What can you tell us about Rogue?" They've barley entered the war room before Scott pounces on the princess.

"Scott," Xavier scolds, "please. I'm sure our guest is weary from her long journey-"

"No," she sighs, sitting next to the Professor's chair, "he's right. Unfortunately, this trip allows no time for pleasantries."

"Very well. What have you come to tell us Lilandra? And why was Logan necessary for your purpose?"

Wolverine grunts from the corner of the room.

"Logan's presence on my ship, though enjoyable, was not planned by any means. You see, we'd been on earth for some time, searching for Phoenix, or, as you know her, Rogue."

The faint good-nature the X-men had completely disappears.

She continues nonetheless. "I'd been keeping a close eye on her, and wanted to evaluate her mental state. I tried peeking inside her mind." She winces and holds her temple, as if remembering an old pain. "As soon as my force touched her walls, Phoenix was instantly on alert, and she lashed out in fear and confusion. Logan was critically injured during this ordeal, and for that, I am greatly sorry. We brought him with us, but soon discovered our minstruations were not necessary, as Logan has amazing regenerative abilities. Rogue, however, may have suffered some mental trauma...but it could not have been helped. She was prepared to chase down our ship, and we were forced to flee.

"However, before I lost consciousness I was able to feel the temperament of her mind, and the news is grave. Phoenix has completely fused her mind with Rogue's, thus eliminating any chance of your friend's survival."

Scott shoots up, fists curled against his sides. "You mean you just tried breaking into her mind, like it was nothing? She could be out there hurting because of you!"

"Phoenix's pain is of no concern to me. If we are lucky, the probe may have weakened her."

Both Warren and Bobby go on defense. Only Jean, Betsy, and the professor show no outward displays of outrage.

"And who, understand I mean this with the utmost respect, are you to decide the fate of our friend?" Had he not said it so politely, Lilandra might have been insulted by the Beast's inquiry.

"Of course, how forgetful of me. I am Princess Lilandra Neramani of the Shi'ar empire. Phoenix once served my people millions of years ago. But, she has lost her focus, and has become a dangerous monstrosity. She cares not who she hurts or what planet she destroys so long as she gets what she desires. My father, my father's father, and so on, have all dedicated their lives to stopping her, no matter the cost. And now, this duty has befallen me. For two years I have been searching, and finally, I've found her. I will destroy her, and, while I'd like your support and possibly your assistance, I will not abandon this mission, should you not agree."

Scott looks to the professor, waiting for him to throw this insane woman out. He waits for Storm to offer to come with him to search for Rogue. He waits for any of his teammates to disapprove as strongly as he does.

"This is ridiculous. Professor, tell her we've got this taken care of. Jean and Betsy can-"

"She nearly destroyed our minds, Scott," Jean murmurs. "There isn't a telepath on this planet strong enough to contain her."

His heart drops to his stomach. "Then, what are you saying?"

"No one is saying anything, Scott. We're just discussing." He turns to Lilandra. "We don't have much of decision, as I take it?"

"That is not the case. You can either help us stop her, or you cannot. Whichever you choose, Phoenix will be destroyed."

"If you could just give us some time-"

"There is no time! Already she walks this earth, in the body of a normal woman. Do you realize that within a blink of an eye, she could destroy both this planet and the surrounding planets as well? And it would not phase her. She'd simply find another galaxy to wreak havoc upon."

"You mentioned earlier that Phoenix has fused her mind with Rogue's. This did not occur when she inhabited Jean. Does this not show Rogue has _some _control over the situation?"

Lilandra sighs. "I knew you'd catch that particular point. But don't you see? If Rogue had control, why did she destroy part of your mansion? Why did she nearly kill Logan?"

"Now that ain't far," Logan snaps. "If you hadn't a been poking your nose around in her mind, she wouldn't of gone all psycho."

"Even so-"

"If I'm not mistaken," Hank begins, "Your people have a custom, an oath that cannot be broken-"

The feathers atop her head quiver. "Don't you dare utter those words! This is not just my life or my peoples' lives at stake, it's the entire universe! All the galaxies! I will not have those lives on my head!"

Charles reads the words from Hank's mind. "I see. If I were to say these words, you would have to fight us for Rogue's life in a duel."

"Yes," she grounds out through her teeth. "But before you do, I suggest you really think about what you're about to do, Charles Xavier."

It takes him only moments to decide, and he murmurs the sacred oath.

"You are a fool, Charles. A brave fool, but a fool nonetheless." She stands, fury making her pale cheeks red.

"You have twenty-four hours to find her and bring her back here. My ship will take us to an uninhabited location, where no population will be threatened."

"Thank you, Lilandra."

"Do not thank me for putting all our lives in grave danger." She stops in the door to look at him. "I do not plan on losing."

"Nor do we."

And they leave just as suddenly as they'd arrived. So much had been decided in such a small period of time, Scott feels his head spinning.

"So what are we waiting for?" Scott can barely keep the relief from his voice.

Wolverine growls in agreement, the animal in him yearning for the upcoming fight.

"None of you truly comprehend this," Jean hisses, and leaves.

Charles can only hope he hasn't let his heart doom them all.

* * *

She carries him bridal style, delighting in his shivers and cries.

"How much longer," he wines.

"We're here, shuga."

She lands near the river, not wanting to draw attention to herself and her lover. Their feet sink into the muddy bank, and the smell makes her eyes water.

Though she'd been away for five years, this was still home, and she hadn't realized how much she missed the sticky air and the mighty river until now.

She isn't sure why or when she decided to bring him here. But, during the tiny space of time in which she'd left to find him clothes, to her return, she'd fallen madly in love with the cajun all over again and wanted to show him somehow. She was tired of the secrets and the lies. God, she'd almost lost him for good, and he'd never even seen where she'd grown up.

She wanted him inside of her, in every context of the phrase, and what better place to start than her childhood?

Remy was more than willing to accompany her, eager to see this part of her, this hidden tidbit she'd never confided in him before.

She grins up at him, he takes her hand.

He can't help getting slightly excited and nervous. "What's y' mere like?"

"Dunno. She died when ah was little."

"Desole, chere."

She smiles as he kisses her cheek. "No need to apologize."

"An y' pere?"

A dark cloud passes over her face and her eyes lose some of their spark. "He died a few years back."

"Don' remember y' goin' to a funeral…" something tells him he should just stop speaking, but the way her face looked when he'd asked about her father fills him up with dread.

"That's cause ah didn't go. Me an him…" she bites her lip, she wanted to tell him so badly, but-

He stops walking and tugs on her hand. "Thought we got passed all dat lyin' and dem secrets?"

The words leave her chest and fill her mouth, but her lips won't part. And so she reverts back to old ways, and lashes out at him.

"What do ya want me to say, huh? He was a pervert, Remy. He liked kids." The truth starts to flood and she can't stop it. "He threatened to kill me if ah ever told. He used to just do it at bath time, but that changed the older ah got. He beat me if ah didn't swallow it, he told me ah was dirty and that good little Christian girls always did what their Daddies told them."

Sometime during her confession, she'd forgotten about Remy and the things around her. But now, she looks at his blanched face and quivering mouth and she can't stand it.

She drops his hand and runs to the bank, vomiting in the river and sobbing all at once.

Remy weeps and holds her hair back. Saying: "Dat bastard, dat bastard-" over and over again.

She falls back against his chest, closing her eyes and letting herself get lost in the feel of his lips against her temple.

"Why y' been keepin' somethin' like dat a secret for, girl?"

"Cause ah'm a fool, cause ah didn't wanna think about it, cause ah was…scared."

"Scared of him?"

"No, ah stopped bein' scared of him a long time ago. Ah was scared of what people would think. Of what _you _would think. Ah didn't want ya thinkin' that ah was weak, that ah didn't fight back."

He's silent for a long time. And then: "Y' _are _a fool."

They continue on for some time.

Her hand tightens in his as they glance up the hill to the big white house. It was surrounded by a fancy iron fence. The gates were decorated with complicated designs.

"This is it," she breathes. There is something false about her smile. "This is where ah grew up."

He doesn't give her an answer, he's too overwhelmed to come up with a response. She was bringing him to her first home, the place she was raised. In a way, she was letting him see her childhood. She was letting him inside, letting him peek into her past.

It was more than he'd ever done for her.

He could just imagine it- a younger, less curvaceous Rogue wandering these hills with overalls and scabs on her knees. Her hair would've been in braids and her cheeks splattered with mud.

"See that window? The one on the left? That was my room. Ah got to paint it myself. Ah had this brilliant idea of mixing all these colors together, thinkin' it would make some cool, multi-colored shade." She chuckles at the memory. "It was brown, and ah never really got around to changin' it."

And on it went, she narrated her tales and adventures to him without taking a step towards the house.

He completely understands why she wouldn't want to venture closer.

"Chere," he asks when she goes silent and they sit on the grass. "What happened after y' left?"

She plays with the frayed hem of her shirt. "My aunt Irene showed up one day, right outta the blue. She was a precog, so ah imagine she knew what was goin' on. She asked me if ah wanted to go with her, ah said yes, an' she took me up to her mansion in northern Mississippi. Daddy tried gettin' me back a few times, but she said she'd tell the police what he'd done if he ever bothered us again." She brushes her hair away from her face, and revels in the cool shade the tree above them provides. "It's weird, even after all he'd done, ah still loved him, still felt bad for him. Am ah, am ah messed up or what?"

"Non." He chuckles dryly. "Y' not messed up, chere. For some reason I'll never understand, I still love m' own pere, even though I fucking hate him at de same time. _Dats _messed up."

She chuckles and lets her head fall to his broad shoulder. "Guess we're just two messed up kids in love, huh?"

He grins. "Guess so. Mais, I like it like dat, don' y'?"

She nods, and he kisses her beneath the tree.

**Paris, 2014.**

He scratches the back of his head awkwardly. "Uh, de bathroom is over dere if y' wanted to clean yo'self up…"

"What happened to you?" She's becoming hysterical. She should go into the bathroom and calm herself down like he suggested, but she can't. She's loved this man too long to just give up on him, why couldn't he see how much she loved him?

She won't let herself think that maybe he _did _know, and just didn't care. That thought is too painful, and she's too stubborn; too determined.

"I don' t'ink comin' here was a good idea." His face has turned to stone, the lazy slackness leaves his lanky form and he becomes stiff.

She knew that look, and she'd never thought _she'd _be on the receiving end of it.

"Is this what you do all day?" Thunder rumbles in the background. "Sit here and get drunk? Don't you have a job? Don't you wash? Don't you _care?!_"

Finally, anger sparks in his eyes. Not the emotion she'd wanted to get out of him, but any reaction was better than that blank look.

"I cared once, I cared a lot. An' look where it got me, p'tite." He sweeps his hand across the room. She notices even more dirt and grime than before.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Remy," she murmurs. "Come back with me, just until you get on your feet. Please…I, I know Rogue, and she wouldn't want you living like this-"

At the mention of _her _name his face goes white, and he crumples to the ground right before her eyes. He sobs harshly and she kneels next to him.

"This isn't what she would have wanted for you."

He rips away from her harshly, his eyes blazing and burning. "An' y' t'ink I did? D'y' t'ink I like livin' like dis?"

"Then don't." She reaches for him again, and when he doesn't shy away, she wraps her arms around his shoulders. "Live, Remy. Pull yourself together, accept the help I'm offering you!"

"I _can't,_" he cries into her breast. "'Ro I can't, it hurts too bad! I-I," his tears flow freely and he can't finish. He hasn't said the words aloud in so many years…he can't do it now. All he wants is to stop hurting, to get drunk, to sleep.

"How many times must I tell you? It wasn't your fault. You did what you had to, Remy! She was too far gone at that point. She would have killed us, she would have killed you!"

He's stopped crying, but does not release his hold on her. "Death…death sounds like a blessin' right about now."

Her lip trembles and she shakes him. "Don't you _dare _talk like that, Remy Lebeau! Do you hear me? You're not going to die, I won't let her take you away from me again!" She pulls him even closer, as if shielding him from the rest of the world around them. "She may be gone, but you're still breathing. And I'm going to keep it that way."

And so he lets her lead him, lets her fight for the life he no longer wants.

She's like a barrier between him and the memories. The memories of the horrible day he'd murdered the love of his life.

_We're just crawling Angels and Demons disguised. The truth you don't know so try to be sure when your Angels and Demons arise. But we're still not sure which way we should go when the Angels and Demons disguise. Just confusing our brains with their lies. Enticing emotions, revolting devotions. The Angels and Demons telling me lies! ~Angels and Demons- Angra_

* * *

Oh my, the last line sure makes a girl's heart break! I made this chapter extra-long since I took longer than 7 days to update. (7 days is my new goal)  
Lilandra is becoming a nuisance, like messing up Rogue's brain... and the X-Men have 24 hours to find the belle and then the fight is on!

**Laceylou76 **came up with the awesome idea of Rogue possibly killing off her own father, but I really wanted to boost this chapter up with a lot of angst-free ROMY, cause the next few chapters are gonna be painful for all of us :( And since I've already mentioned you, I might as well answer your review! :) So you know how you're an angst-addict? Well, I'm an attention-addict. And knowing your attention is soley tuned to me and my fic...is like a fix. Our marriage is becoming very co-dependent, not healthy at all, but fun and thrilling as hell;). 9 was quite confusing, what with all the jumping around, there was just so much to cramp in one chapter! I hadn't expected Lilandra to be in it either, til about two weeks ago. I wanted Rogue to go out with a bang, and I could think of no other way then adding some universal drama. It's no wonder you nearly overdosed!

**Chellerbelle: **I know what you mean. Bald and Remy just don't work well together. But, he's alive and well and hair can always grow back ;) I'm glad you approved of my Sinister! He's such a cleched Remy-villain, but he's the only one that really worked for this fic so...

**Ruroca: **If I had a boyfriend as hot as Remy, I'd hunt him down, too! He's just too damn perfect to let slip away! And Sinister paid the price...with his life! She crumpled him up like nothing! Haha f-you Sinister! You think Remy uses Pantene? I was thinking more along the lines of Treseme. Cause of the commercials: 'Treseme, Treseme, ooh-la-la!' LOVE those commercials! The scene was meant to leave the reader thinking Rogue killed Wolverine, and don't worry, you didn't miss anything. This chapter kind of hints at how they seperated. I skipped around a lot last chapter, so...see ya next time!

**Crazyrightnow: **Phoenix and Lilandra will have a lot more than just verbal sparring, trust me sister! I'm soo excited for the bad ass fight scenes coming up!

**Airo25: **I know, I know. Remy + Bald = :( But, he is alive, ya have to give me that! And I'm glad you noticed Rogue being able to sense Remy, even though her memories are gone. Personally, I think the heart is a powerful thing, and I could see in my mind's eye Rogue still loving him. I don't think true love is limited to memories and all that, its how it makes ya _feel. _And that is why their love is great! Speaking of ROMY love, you have me totally wrapped around your finger with _Moments. _I hope everything works out for them, and that there hopes don't get smashed! Thanks as always!

**ButterflyRogue: **You know, I never saw the choppiness as being a good thing, but you've made me think differently. I was trying to go for suspense, but I thought I'd failed miserably. It relieves me tremendously to know you thought it fit the tone of the chapter. As we saw this chapter, Rogue indeed saved her man and all is well, for now...lol. Remy's involvment with Sinister has finally come to an end, forever. Though Sinister is evil and deserved what he got, it was scary seeing Rogue kill him without so much as an after-thought. It really shows just how much Phoenix is influencing her mind:( Those creative juices and plot bunnies you sent me came just in the nic of time, and I thank you for both those and the amazing support you've showered on me!

**Payla: **Thank you! I really do try, and you guys make it really easy for me to continue on with this fic!

**SevenIsMyLuckyNumber: **Thank you! I was so worried about it being choppy...Lilandra's mission in this fic is no different from her mission in the '90's series, so there will def. be some similarities.

**Cassie: **I'm pretty sure everyone, ROMY fan or not, hates that creepy blue man. He's good for a villain, but such an ass.

**LeonHyuga: **All the chapters in one sitting? Dang, you're dedicated girl! I'm glad I was able to keep your interest, and I never thought one of my fics would be described as 'epic'. You're too kind! And you're so right about Remy. It seems like whenever he finds even just a little bit of happiness, its somehow ruined for him. Even though he's commited some pretty bad sins, he's good deep down inside and still deserves to live a happy life. I'm glad to hear you liked Rogue taking Jean's place, It's an idea I've been playing around with for a while, and it's great to know so many people are finding it believable, and not too far-fetched. Hhaha a chainsaw, huh? Well that doesn't sound safe at all! Are you 18? Can you operate heavy machinery? If so, you and me can meet up and you'll try to saw through the irony and angst and I'll sit back and watc with an iced tea in hand...yeah, i def, get the better part of that deal. Thanks so much for pointing out the spelling error! If you could tell me where it is specifically, I'd be most obliged...Typos irritate me to no end! Thank you again!

And there ya have it. Another chapter down.

Lovingly,  
merr2.

Review Me.


	12. Red Skies

Red Skies

_Red Skies at night, red skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Should have taken warning. It's just, people mourning, running, hiding, lost. You can't find, find a place to go, so it's Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Should have taken warning. It's just, people mourning, running, hiding, lost. ~Red Skies- Fixx_

**September 2004.**

It was a lie, a deception.

Rogue doesn't know when she stopped believing the smiles and encouragement. Or the guarded hugs, the jokes and laughter. Perhaps it was the day they'd gone to the military base, and things hadn't gone as planned. The Brotherhood had been set-up, and they'd had to retreat.

Sometime during the scramble, Rogue's bare cheek brushed against her foster mother's arm, and she knew everything. Her assumptions and beliefs about the previous years were chewed up and spit out. None of it was real.

Mystique and her aunt Irene had once been lovers, long ago. For years they'd been 'partners in crime', and Irene did whatever it took to further their cause.

She'd even gone as far as lying to her niece for all those years. In a sense, most of Rogue's childhood had been planned out. They'd known her father would scare her mother away, they'd known about the abuse, they'd known about Cody. And besides Irene asking her to make sure her skin was covered, neither one of them had ever even given her a hint.

Rogue wonders bitterly as she walks through the streets of New York if they'd known about _this, _too. Had they already known she'd storm from the house on this day, that she'd cut all ties with them and join their enemy?

Probably.

They didn't love her, never had. They loved the idea of what she'd _become. _Every mission, every bruise, they were all preparation for the future they wanted her to have. A future full of fire, and anguish, of galaxies destroyed…

She holds her head and whimpers as the visions shove themselves in her left temple. She can only cry at the visions and prophecies she'd absorbed from Mystique's mind.

She avoids a murky puddle and ignores her soaking hair. She knows the 'X-Mansion' is only a few short miles away. It was funny, the X-Geeks were the last people she thought she'd be going to for help, but they're the only ones she can think of. No matter what it takes, she'll stop Destiny's visions from coming true. She'll never let herself become that fiery, cruel she-demon. _Never. _

She'll do anything and everything in her power to prevent her hellish fate from coming to pass.

_You can't find, find a place to go, so it's Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Someone's taking over and it looks like they're aiming right at you. Someone says, "We'll be dead by morning." Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. ~Red Skies- Fixx_

She'll do anything and everything in her power to prevent her hellish fate from coming to pass.

And as the sun breaks the horizon and its warmth bathes her, she curls tighter against his body and the feeling of determination she'd experienced strengthens.

The belle couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in her old home, so they'd fallen asleep under the Oak tree, wrapped in a quilt she'd found in the garage. It hadn't been easy entering, the memories had nearly choked her. It was like stepping into the dark, musty smelling place had somehow reconnected her to childhood, and try as she might, she couldn't stop the past from forming in her mind's eye.

Soon after she shifts his breathing pattern quickens and his arm tightens around her shoulder.

"Dat was suprisin'ly comfortable." He sits up to stretch, then settles back into their cocoon.

"Mm-hmm. Ah slept like a baby." Her already smoky voice breaks even more from sleep, her wild and tangled curls excite him.

They watch the sunrise together, both wishing things could stay this way forever. In this setting, it was easy to forget the harsh, cold world around them. The chirping birds and puffy clouds allow them to pretend for a few precious moments.

The light soon becomes too intense for Remy's sensitive eyes, so he closes them. Rogue, on the other hand, watches the sky in all its vibrancy. Splashes of red and orange and even a few specks of blue and purple swirl and mix together in beautiful simplicity, and she has the sudden urge to soar the horizon, and leave him behind…

"Chere?"

She suppresses a shudder and turns to him. His furrowed brow grounds her immediately. "Sorry shuga, just day dreamin'."

He doesn't believe her and they both know it, but instead of confronting her he kisses her sloppily on the lips, and hops up to relieve himself behind the bushes.

She looks directly into the sun, but her eyes do not burn or water. She knows she can withstand the burning fires of the sun, because she'd done it before. She can't remember when, or how, but she can recall flying freely through the universe and touching the core of the sun itself and devouring it whole-

"Don' know 'bout y'," he says as he returns, "mais I'm starved. Know a place to get some food?"

She shakes herself from her second reprieve of the day, and nods. "If ah remember correctly, there's a diner a couple miles down that way. We'll make it in no time by flyin'."

His eyes widen comically and he backs away. "I'll walk, t'anks."

Rogue grins, making sure he hears when she murmurs 'pussy' under her breath.

After folding the quilt and putting on their shoes, the two southerners start down the gravel road behind Rogue's old house. A few sparse trees are littered on either side, but the rest was all grass as far as he could see. Tall, swaying grass.

He could imagine Rogue as a child, running through these fields and screaming in delight if she found a frog or field mouse. Not for the first time, Remy wonders what she must have been like as a kid. Was she quiet and introverted? Or did she ignore her father's abuse and act just as sassy as she did now? He wants to ask her, but thinks better of it. After all, if she had any urge whatsoever to discuss the past she would've already brought it up.

"What are ya thinkin' about," she murmurs, keeping her eyes focused on the steaming, uneven ground.

He shrugs. "Everyt'ing. What lil Roguey musta been like, how much I wanna kill dat bastard, Sinister, Phoenix, my hair-"

"Or lack thereof."

"I'm bein' serious, chere."

She sighs. "Ah know ya are, Remy. But ah'm not in the mood for bein' serious, ah'm tired of it actually. The past is the past, and even though it can still hurt, it doesn't matter to me anymore. What matters is that yoah safe and ah have ya back. Sinister is dead, an Phoenix-" Something wells up in her throat suddenly and she can't speak. "Phoenix-"

"What's it like?" He ventures closer, taking her hand in his. "Havin' her inside, what's it like?"

If only the words existed to explain having your soul on fire. "It's, it's like drownin'. Ah feel her presence wrap around my ankles, and then she pulls me under. Ah fight and struggle, but ah can never stop her. Ah scream but no sound comes out, only bubbles. And then ah _see. _Ah see everythin' at once, Remy, and it overwhelms me. Ah'm everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Ah'm the past, the present, and the future. Ah know all there was and everythin' there will be. Ah just _am. _

"She keeps pullin' me further and further down and the water gets real hot, it starts scorchin' my skin…and then ah'm in my mindscape."

For a moment, only the sound of gravel crunching beneath their feet fills the quiet.

"Why did y' let her back?" He's in pain, she can hear it easily in his timbre.

Her answer comes out decidedly, she doesn't regret her decision. "Cause ah knew ah'd get ya back, too."

He stops and lets go of her hand. She fears turning back to look at him, and so she keeps her gaze trained towards the distance.

"Stupid girl. I ain't worth y' soul, chere. _No one _is."

"Yoah wrong."

She knows despite his anger, he needed to hear this. He needed to know she was happy with what she'd done, he needed to know she didn't resent him. Even after all this time, Remy could not wholly accept the thought of Rogue loving him so completely. He was tainted and unworthy, and the distrust he'd formed long ago sometimes made him go on guard. He waited for the day when Rogue would leave him, and he knew if she did, he deserved it.

"You _are _worth it, Remy." She turns back, offering him both her hand and her smile.

He accepts both with an unsteady grin, and they continue on.

An hour later, they reach town sweaty and hot. Remy looks around, wrinkling his nose. 'Town' was a gas station, a grocery store, and a police station/hospital combination. Women strolled around in their flowery dresses, and men hollered and laughed in their overalls and hats. Everyone stared, and Remy remembers how disheveled he and Rogue must look.

"Come on, the grocery store's over that way."

He follows, but drums his fingers apprehensively. "Aren't y' worried 'bout someone recognizin' y'?"

"Good 'ole Dad didn't allow me to come to town. Ah'm as much of a stranger to these people as ya."

He has a sudden, insane urge for a cigarette. "I _hate _small towns. Hopefully I can find some sunglasses around."

She spins around, green eyes blazing. "No ya won't, cause ya have nothin' to be ashamed of. Yoah eyes are beautiful an' if these ignorant, dirty bigots can't see that, who the fuck cares?" She grabs his hand and stomps determinately towards the grocery store. Remy can only stare in shock at the back of her head.

His shock only increases when she begins stuffing food down her shirt.

"Uh, what are y' doin'?"

"Well, ah don't have money, an neither do ya." Her pockets overflow with sweets and chips, the apples and soda cans bulge beneath her ripped shirt.

He buries his face in his hands and laughs. "Y' suck at stealin', chere."

"Just shut up and get yoahself some eats."

"Y' know," he waggles his eyebrows and drags his finger up her spine, "seein' y' hide dem Skittles in y' cleavage was real hot-"

She slaps his hand away and blushes hotly. "Hurry, before they catch us and break out their rifles."

He decides to leave her alone, because judging from the darkening of her eyes, she wants him just as much as he wants her. And for now, he doesn't feel right in having her, not yet.

Their hunger hits them and they barely make it from the store before stuffing their faces.

When they walk a safe distance away, they sit on the side of the familiar gravel road and finish their meal.

"What now?" He brushes crumbs from his shirt and pats his full belly.

She sips from the can. "Ah'm not sure. The X-men are probably wonderin' where ah am. Ah haven't checked in yet."

Remy leans back, mulling over her words. He isn't quite sure how he feels about returning to New York. On one hand, going back would be the responsible thing to do, and the resident telepaths could somehow find a way to help Rogue. On the other hand, the thought of whisking Rogue away to Cancun or France or any other place she wanted to travel is immensely tempting. Maybe he could help her on his own, maybe he didn't want to share her with the X-men. Maybe he wanted her to be his, and only his forever.

"Have y' ever thought about leavin' de X-men, chere? Maybe startin' a life of your own?"

His question sparks both delight and fear in her chest. "Course ah have, many times. There's just always been somethin' in my way."

"What about now?" He wants her to look him in the eyes but she can't. "Is there somethin' holdin' y' back now?"

She bites her lip. "Ya know there is. How can ya even talk about that with the way things are?"

"Cause we're not gettin' any younger, Rogue, and dis could be our last chance. If we go back dere, we'll get wrapped up again and we'll never get another chance, I can _feel _it."

He brushes her bangs away from her eyes and kisses a tear she hadn't known she'd shed. He tilts her head back and kisses her lips, he tastes salty.

A simple meeting of lips morphs into something so much greater and soon their bodies are pressed together and her shirt is discarded. He works at her bra, knowing he's about to cross over into unknown territory and there's no turning back. He can't tell her 'no' anymore, he can't hold back- and just like that, she turns to stone in his arms.

He opens his mouth to beg for her forgiveness, thinking he pushed her too fast, but she smirks and covers his mouth with her slender finger.

"We'll finish this later, shuga," she dusts of her shirt and pulls it back over her head. "When we're _alone."_

It's then he hears the roar of the Blackbird's engines.

* * *

"At least you don't have to worry about buying all those hair products anymore," Bobby offers.

"Buying? He probably stole all of it." But Emma can't hide the relief in her voice. She was just as ecstatic as her boyfriend to have Gambit back where he belonged.

Remy, however, could not take comfort in Ororo's embrace, or Bobby's jokes, or even Logan's awkward handshake. For once he expected things to be normal. He and Rogue would return to their old life, like nothing had ever happened.

He was wrong. In less than eight hours, they'd be fighting for Rogue's life, and everything could change in an instant.

If the bad news affected her, Rogue did not show it. She chatted and smiled with the others, and apologized to Logan for something Remy did not know about. She's calm and he's wild with the thought of losing her.

He marches to the Professor's office as soon as they land.

"Remy," he greets him warmly, "you have no idea how it warms my heart to-"

"I'm not lettin' her fight. We'll hide her away, I'll run for de rest of my life if I have to! Mais Professor we can't win, y' know we can't!"

He waits until Remy sinks into the chair before speaking. "I wasn't presented with many options at the time, my friend. It was either immediate death, or the choice I made. I assure you that no amount of running will keep Rogue safe from Lilandra and her people, at least this way you have the rest of the X-men fighting with her."

He feels sick, he's going to vomit. "I won't let her."

"That is not your choice to make, is it Remy?"

* * *

None of them mentioned it, or even gave hints, but she can still see their fear. Somehow, they knew the upcoming battle would be one of the biggest in their lives, and that some of them would not be coming home. And Rogue feels awful for that. They were risking everything for her, and she doesn't believe she deserves their dedication.

Betsy and Warren never released each other's hand, Emma sat on Bobby's lap and they whispered back and fourth for hours. Logan and the Professor stayed in his study, Ororo kept wiping tears from her blue eyes, while Beast patted her back, and even Kitty and Piotr discovered more than friendship in the wake of the battle.

They were saying goodbye to one another, even if they couldn't see it for what it really was. There was a strong possibility they wouldn't be able to hold or kiss or talk to their loved ones ever again, and it's all her fault.

He finds her on the roof and she's shaken from her dark thoughts. Her knees are tucked under her chin, her hair is pulled back in a simple braid. The fading light washes her in an unearthly glow, he swears he can see sparkles on her porcelain skin.

"We got to see the sunrise and sunset together," she whispers, though he's sure he did nothing to alert her of his presence. "Maybe it's a sign, that this is our last day together."

"I doubt it." He sits next to her, mimicking her position. "I see it more as foreshadowin', and we'll be spending de rest of our days together."

She can't help but smile, and shakes her head. "Ah'm sorry about burnin' all yoah stuff."

He waves her off. He's extremely uncomfortable in the designer clothes Warren let him borrow, but he'll never let her know. "I figure I deserved it. 'Sides, dis gives me another excuse to move into yo' room, non?"

She laughs at this, marveling at how simple it was for Remy to ease her troubles. He was so good at doing it, sometimes she wonders if his empathy had something to do with it.

"Remy?" The sun finally sets and she can see the stars. "Do ya really think everything will be okay?"

He brings her closer. For once, he knows the lies he's about to tell her will serve for a better purpose.

"I _know _so. De X-men are hard to kill, chere, like roaches. A few scrapes, a couple bruises, mais we'll be fine."

Before she'd inadvertently absorbed Phoenix, Rogue wouldn't have been able to pick up on the tremor in Remy's voice, or sense the air of apprehension and fear surrounding him. She's able to hear a few stray thoughts, and he's just as terrified as she is.

He can't lie to her anymore, but she can lie to him.

"If ya say so." She rests her face against his neck, feeling his steady pulse against her lips. So long as his blood kept pumping and his heart kept beating, she knows she'll be able to survive. If there is one good thing about this whole situation, it's that she's no longer weak. She can protect Remy, she can swat away any danger that comes his way.

The presence inside her hated him with burning intensity, jealous of the way Rogue loved him. But it would still protect him, because Rogue wished it. And what Rogue wished, Phoenix granted.

She kisses his jaw next, and then his lips. "This could be it," she whispers against his mouth. "This could be our last chance."

The belle kisses him with near brutality, but he responds with understanding and gentleness. She felt so good, and despite his fears, this won't be the last time he holds her like this. He'll make sure of that. Even if he gets hurt, even if he loses his life, the woman he loves will wake up the next day, and the next day, and the next day.

"Rogue," he groans as she lifts the stifling shirt over his head and runs her small hands across his chest.

Her cheeks are warm and her eyes are bright. "Ah want ya to make love to me, Remy."

The grip he has on her hips tighten, and his throat suddenly goes dry. "Y' sure?" He asks, as if there was any chance of him being able to stop this now.

Her arms go around his neck. "Ah've never been more sure of anythin' in my life."

Love and heat sizzle between them. He's addicted to this woman, and it hits him harder than ever.

The desperation and need takes a backseat to passion, and Remy undresses her slowly, relishing the feel of her fingers running through his hair, her bare chest against his bare chest.

And when she finally lays naked before him, surprisingly comfortable in her state of nudity, Remy's heart palpates and it's almost too much. Never, in all his fantasies and day dreams had he imagined her to be this beautiful. She was perfect, and all her delectable flesh is finally his for the taking.

"I love y', chere."

"Love ya, too."

They spend their last few hours making love and unleashing need that had been building up from the moment they met each other. Both had no idea how perfect it'd turn out to be.

* * *

She was dressed in full battle regalia, the dim light coming from the monitors reflects off of her metallic wardrobe and headdress. The blue cape she wears bears the golden brooch of her people, her expression is grave.

Her Imperial guard stands before the Majestrix. Each of them know what they must do, each of them are dedicated to their Princesses' cause. They will destroy the Phoenix, and if need be, the X-men as well.

She looks to the green man at her side. "Yes, Mentor?"

"Your Majestrix, by processing the profiles and abilities of both the Imperial guard and the X-men, I have managed to pair each individual against someone with similar capabilities and skill. Though the earthlings will undoubtedly fail, I followed your wishes and made the battle as fair as possible."

"Thank you, Mentor. Your efforts are greatly appreciated."

"It is my pleasure, Majestrix." He bows respectfully before returning to the control room.

She leaves them to stand in front of the communication module. Using her telepathic abilities, she sends a wave through the vast reaches of space, and soon, the machine in front of her whirs to life.

Charles Xavier's grim face appears on the screen. "Is it that time already, Lilandra?"

"I am afraid so, my friend. My people are sending coordinates of our meeting place to your home as we speak."

"I see. I will have Hank plug them into the Blackbird."

An awkward silence fills the space between them. His eyes lock onto hers, forcing her to rethink her decision…but she can't. She _knows _she can't. she won't let her feelings for the older man cloud her judgment. Her life isn't the only life in jeopardy, the entirety of the universe was in the balance.

"Lilandra-"

"No, Charles, there is no other way. I will see you and your X-men soon." And with that, she terminates the feed.

His breath escapes from his chest and he leans back in his chair. It was obvious from the determined gleam in her eye that Lilandra had made her decision. But can he blame her? Would he not do the same thing in her position?

He scans the mansion and discovers the doctor in his usual place. _Hank._

He feels the returning murmur. _I'm assuming you've contacted me to ensure we've been sent the coordinates. We have, Lilandra is quite prompt._

The professor can't stop the bitter chuckle that leaves him. _She is. Has the Blackbird been prepped?_

_Robert and Logan assisted me with the start-up. We'll be ready for departure at any moment's notice._

_Thank you, Hank. I- I don't think I've ever really expressed just how much I appreciate all you do._

There is a short pause. _I'm sure you will be able to express that appreciation in many years to come, Charles._

How he hopes Hank is right. _I'm sure I will, too._

Reluctantly, Xavier ends the conversation and connects with the other inhabitants of the mansion. They can hear the finality in his voice as he tells them their last hour has begun.

* * *

She'd sensed Lilandra's aura even before the Professor did, and she'd known the end was almost here. She also knows that something is bothering her lover.

He'd been so loving and tender at first- kissing her collarbone and breasts, whispering sweet French in her ear and smoothing away the tension in her limbs with his expert hands.

He'd thought she'd been tense because she'd been afraid, but that wasn't the case. The tightness of her muscles and the stiffening of her back was a case of the spring being coiled too tight for too long. She'd wanted him so bad it was almost painful. And when she finally had him, had him inside of her and his smell filled her nostrils and his touch melted her insides, she felt something dark and unwelcome swirling around deep in the back of her mind.

She'd known it was Phoenix right away. It was terrifying, but not at all surprising. After all, Phoenix was a being that fed off of others' emotions, feelings, thoughts, and sensations. Somehow, she'd managed to push Phoenix down, unwilling to share she and Remy's first time with anyone else.

They fell off the edge together, and climbed back up together, too. Her sweaty forehead rested on his sweaty chest, and the afterglow of such ardent lovemaking wrapped them both in a quiet spell.

The professor's voice rings in their heads like an alarm clock, and their saccharine moment is shattered. They dress, and when she tries to place a kiss on his lips he suggests they hurry and get ready. This hurts her, but she understands he's probably nervous for the upcoming battle.

It's after she's showered and enters her bedroom that he finally confronts her.

"Y' not a virgin," he says simply. He has a towel wrapped around his waist, and he sits stiffly on her bed. Though his stance is distrustful and wary, there is still hope in his eyes. Hope that she'll be able to give him some sort of explanation that won't break his heart.

She can't.

Instead of answering right away, she steps into her closet and retrieves her dark green uniform. She opens her drawer to gather underclothes and socks, and begins dressing. "So?"

His own uniform lays across a chair. "_So_ why did y' never tell me?" It's almost a whisper, and she wants to weep.

"Ya never asked." She sits in front of her vanity and combs the tangles from her wet hair almost savagely. She pretends she can't see the crimson orbs of his eyes in her peripheral vision.

"Who?"

It's this loaded, one-word question that causes her to pause and her façade to slip, because how does she answer that? For a flash instant she thinks about lying. She could cry and tell him her father raped her. He wouldn't ask any more questions, his heart wouldn't break.

But it's only an instant, she can't lie to him like that, she can't betray him.

"Remy-"

"Rogue?" The soft knocking at the door cuts off her explanation, and she's almost relieved. "We're loading the Blackbird. Logan says you have like, five minutes to get down there."

"Okay," her voice breaks, she does not face her lover. "Ah'll be down in a sec."

She stands and heads towards the door. His hand clamps down around her wrist. "We're not done here, p'tite."

She turns to find his gaze searching and burning at the same time. She wonders what must be going through his mind. She's too scared and ashamed to search his thoughts, she doesn't feel like she deserves that right anymore.

She does not know what to say to make the situation any less tense, so she simply pries her hand away and leaves him alone to dress.

* * *

Despite the situation, Beast cannot hide his fascination. "How is it that we can breathe in this environment?"

They stand in the middle of the barren land, Xavier and the X-men on one side, Lilandra and the Imperial guard on the other.

"A simple molecular shield," Mentor answers. "By typing in a few equations, I can use the electrical field on our ship to manipulate the shape and wavelengths of the shield and surround the asteroid and emit oxygen, thus allowing us to breathe."

"Incredible! How did you ever accomplish such a feat?"

The green man almost looks smug. "I assure you, the Shi'ar had harnessed this technology long before your people discovered fire."

"Astonishing," the blue doctor breathes.

Lilandra clears her throat. "As I said before, you've all been paired off. The loser of each will be transported back to my ship, and, if alive, will be given the necessary medical treatment. The winner will remain on the battlefield, and will be allowed to assist his or her teammates. The side with the most members remaining will be the victor, and must concede to the terms Charles and I have already discussed."

She nods to Mentor, and he scrambles to the middle.

"Wolverine-"

The man in question stiffens at the mention of his name.

"Your opponent is Fang."

"Jean Grey, your opponent is Sibyl."

"Colossus, your opponent is Neutron."

"Cyclops, your opponent is Impulse."

Rogue's head spins as he continues, his voice blurs into one long drone and she begins to shiver. It was all happening so fast, too fast. This was really happening, the X-men were really going to put their lives on the line for her.

She can sense the power of their enemy easily, and it far outweighed most of the X-men. With the exception of herself, Remy, Wolverine, and Cyclops, the X-men were greatly disadvantaged. Jean and Betsy were still weakened from their comas, Storm no longer had the aid of weather because there wasn't weather in space, Kitty did not yet have full control of her abilities, Beast, Warren and Bobby did not have the viciousness it took to kill their enemy.

And Rogue has a feeling it's going to come down to death.

"Beast, your opponent is Warstar."

"Archangel, your opponent is Nightside."

"Shadowcat, your opponent is Astra."

"Iceman, your opponent is Flashfire."

"Storm, your opponent is Hussar."

"Emma Frost, your opponent is Magique."

"Psylocke, your opponent is Manta."

"Gambit-"

The belle stiffens.

"-your opponent is Starbolt."

Rogue studies Remy's assigned opponent. Just the sight of him sends goose bumps up and down her arms. He was quite literally on fire, and red energy throbbed from his hands. Remy did not look the least bit afraid, he even sent a cocky smirk in the other man's general direction. But she knows better, she knows he's not as confident as he may seem.

Or maybe she's confusing his feelings with her own.

"Phoenix-"

"Rogue."

She isn't aware of her comment until all eyes are on her. Some gazes held fear, awe, and disgust. Some held companionship, pride, and love.

"My name is Rogue," she finishes softly.

Mentor looks over at his superior, but she does not give him any response. "Very well then. Rogue, your opponent is Gladiator."

Remy's hand grabs her's desperately. She knows he wants to kill the regal looking man before he even has a chance to fight her.

"I will ask you one last time, Charles. _Please _rethink your decision and give her to us." _Think about us and all we could have, _her eyes plead.

"I cannot do that, Lilandra. I wish there was some other way, but there is not. My loyalty resides with Rogue."

Her face falls, but it's a momentary weakness. "Very well then. You have thirty minutes to adjust to this terrain." She spins away to return to the ship.

Xavier must tear his gaze away from her retreating form. "I must follow her to the ship, but before I go, I must tell you all how much you mean to me."

Kitty bursts into tears right off the bat, and Piotr wraps his arm around her shaking shoulders.

"I feel like I've made a personal connection to each and every one of you, and if I could, I'd be out here fighting with you. Unfortunately, I'd be more of a liability than an asset, and I do not wish to add any more stress to your situation." He smiles then, and looks every one of his X-men in the eyes. "You have all made me so proud."

There isn't a dry eye in the house, though most of the men try to hide their tears. Rogue opens her mouth. She isn't worth this, she isn't worth all these lies!

Jean beats her to it. "We'll die, all of us. I know you sensed the power of those beings, they'll rip us apart in a matter of minutes."

"How can you say that?" Scott snaps. "We're X-men, Jean, and X-men stick together no matter what!"

"Even if it means suicide?" Betsy shakes her head, her lip trembles. "You haven't been inside her mind, you don't know what she's capable of!"

"It isn't her though, she can't help it!"

"I won't die for her, Scott. You will, but I won't."

"Listen to yourself, Jean!" Scott clutches his wife's arms. "This is- this _could _be our last half hour together, and you're saying such horrible things-"

"I have an idea." They'd never noticed how empty Jean's eyes had become. "Why don't we continue this discussion while you go and fuck her again? How does that sound?"

"Oh my stars and garters."

Scott's mouth goes slack, the color drains from Rogue's face, Jean crumples and begins sobbing harshly.

The professor stumbles over his words, the rest of them go silent. He feels Ororo's hand on his shoulder blade, but all he can do is look from Rogue, to Jean, to Scott, and back at Rogue. _No! _His brain screams, _no, no, no, no, no!_

"I loved you, I loved you so much and I gave you everything!" She slaps Scott across the cheek, if it hurts he does not show it. "And I _knew! _I knew back then you were unfaithful, and I know now, too! I almost didn't wake up, Scott, I almost died! And you, you-"

"Wait, Scott banged Rogue?!" Bobby yelps as Emma grinds her white heel into his foot as viciously as she can.

Her legs can barely keep her upright. "Remy, ah wanted to tell ya-"

He snaps. He ignores her tears and her apologies, and he roars. His fist slams into Scott's jaw before anyone can react, the cajun pummels him to the ground mercilessly.

"Stop this madness!" The Professor's exclamation breaks them out of their shock, and Logan pulls Gambit away while Beast does the same with Cyclops.

"I always knew y' weren't as high n' mighty as y' liked everyone to t'ink!" Tears and blood drip from his face. "Y' had everyt'ing- de perfect family, de perfect wife, de perfect _life! _De Professor wanted y' to take over when he retired, de others worship de ground y' walk on, so _why? _Why did y' have to take de one t'ing dat makes me happy?" He throws Wolverine off of him and wipes sweat from his brow. "I wasn't here back den, mais now? Y' knew she was taken! And what about Jeannie? For dieu sakes, at least have de decency to end t'ings wit her if y' plan on sleepin' around!"

"Oh that's real rich coming from you! We all know your history, we all know you've slept around with more women than I can count! How dare you judge me when you've done worse? I've never broken Rogue's heart, I've never set out to hurt her! And when she needed you the most? You chickened out, you deserted her!"

"He didn't-"

"No, Rogue, call it what you want but the truth of the matter is that he's weak. He's a sniveling, pathetic excuse of a human and he doesn't deserve you, never has."

"And I suppose you do?" The red head's eyes are still watery, but her voice does not waver. "A divorce? Is that what you want? Do you want to leave me for her? Well do it, Scott, because our marriage fell apart a long time ago."

"Jean-"

"Remy-"

"Rogue-"

"We're running out of time." He turns a light shade of violet as the two warring couples turn to glare at him. "Perhaps we could request more time…?"

"No," Remy croaks. "We're done here." He walks away, and Rogue reaches for him.

"Don' touch me you fuckin' whore! Don' ever touch me again!"

She doesn't beg, she doesn't cry, but she does get angry.

"Who the _hell _do ya think you are? What ah did was horrible, but yoah no better either! At least ah had feelings for Scott, at least he wasn't some bar hoppin' hussy ah found on the streets!"

"Mais don' y' see?" His hands curl into fists and he shakes them in her face. "Dat's what kills me, chere! None of dem meant a damn t'ing to me! My heart was wit you de entire time. It wouldn't hurt as much knowin' you've slept with a hundred hommes as it hurts knowin' you slept with one homme y' had feelin's for!"

"Ah wanted to tell ya myself, ah never wanted ya to find out like this-"

"Den why didn't y'?"

She wipes away her tears, willing herself not to shed anymore. "Because ah felt like ah had to protect ya from the truth. Ya always had this unrealistic picture of who ah was in yoah head. Ya saw me as innocent, as naïve, as untouched. Ya thought ah needed protection and ya wanted to be the only one doin' it. For some reason, ya disillusioned yourself into believin' ah was _perfect_. Somewhere along the line, ya forgot that ah was human. Instead, ah was yoah redemption, ah could cleanse ya. Ya never thought to look deeper, ya never paid any mind to the clues ah tried givin' ya. All ya saw was a chance to save yoah soul, and that's what isn't fair."

He doesn't know what to say, so he does not speak. Instead, he wraps his arms around her and leans heavily on her for support.

"Mais y' _are _perfect, chere. No matter what."

She promised herself that she wouldn't cry anymore, but who could remain calm after a sentiment like that?

"Ah promise ya shuga, no more secrets. When we get back home- an' we _will _make it back home- we'll work all this out, kay? Everything will be alright."

As he nods and holds her tighter, Remy realizes for the first time just how strong Rogue is, and how foolish he'd been thinking for so long that _she _was the one who needed protecting.

Before things have a chance to unravel even further, Wolverine sniffs the air and growls. "They're moving towards us, we're out of time."

Xavier swallows, still reeling from the recent confrontation. "Now is your last chance. If you do not want to fight, say it now, or forever hold your peace." He looks at both Jean and Betsy as he says this.

Jean turns to Scott's hopeful face, and then to Rogue's resigned one. The two women stare into each other's eyes for what seems like forever. They seem to come to some sort of silent agreement, and Jean sighs. "I'll stay, Professor. Personal issues aside, Rogue fought and risked her life for me when I was in this predicament, and I still, I still consider her my friend."

"Thank ya, Jean. Ah know ah don't deserve it."

Xavier's approval is tangible, and Scott takes his wife's hand in his own. Rogue isn't sure, but she thinks she sees a ghost of a smile on the red head's face.

"Betsy?"

"I'll stay. I couldn't bear to put you all at an even greater disadvantage because I decided not to fight."

The cracks between them begin to heal. They feel like a team again.

_Snikt. _"Enough of this lovey-dovey bullshit." He smirks over at the older man. "Why don't you wheel outta here, Chuck? Time for the kiddies to play."

He raises his eyebrow, slightly troubled by Logan's feral grin. "Very well. But when we get back to the mansion you and I are going to have a little chat about your disturbing fascination with all things violent and bloody."

_When we get back to the mansion…_

The statement hangs over them all like a heavy cloud, and Rogue holds onto Remy even tighter.

She'll make sure these people don't die for her, even if she perishes in the process.

_Someone cries, leaving Red eyes at night, Red eyes at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red. Skies. At. Night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. ~Red Skies- Fixx_

* * *

Mood swings much?

This chapter was extra long, and it took a lot out of me. But it was a lotta fun, though I'm kind of annoyed I wasn't able to fit the battle scene in here X[

Now, on to my lovely reviewers whom I love with all my heart!

**Cassie: **I know exactly what you mean. Part of me appreciates Storm helping Remy through this hard time in his life, and part of me is screaming for her to back the hell up. And I think we ALL needed a little bit of angst free ROMY. Even though it wasn't _completely _angst free, it was fluffier than usual. There was a bunch this chappie, too. Did ya notice? Did ya?!?!

**A: **I know, I'll work harder on that I promise! And I'm glad your interest is peaked :)

**Ruroca: **Bonjour Ms. Ruroca! A few reviewers said they also were thinking it wasn't Storm. I think that's cool, even though I wasn't intending it to be that way lol. That's my mysterious nature coming through I guess...not really. Anyways, I understand the love/hate thing you have going for Storm, cause I feel the same way. She basically saved Remy's life by forcing him into marriage and making him get his shit together, but at the same time she's no Rogue, and the poor thing knows it, too. I can't imagine what it'd be like getting with a guy who was still in love with his dead girlfriend, it must be so hard to know you're living in somone elses' shadow. _"But hey what can you do, at least he isn't bald in Paris but since he's kind of let himself go at that point, I'm picturing more hair than I bargained for.." _Haha that made me laugh so hard, you have no idea! He's going through a rough time! He doesn't have time for things like showering...or shaving...or changing his clothes...yeah, that's really gross. But, it does show just how much he loves his roguey, so sad! And yes, you have to wait to figure if Remy killed Rogue(why would he do that? Hmmmm...) Or if he simply had something to do with her death. You'll have to wait! Maybe I shouldn't update for a year and make all of you wait! Mwahahaha! (I wouldn't really do that. It's too mean, and it would screw up my good karma.)

**Crazyrightnow: **You're definately on the right track, but that's all I'm saying!

**Payla: **Are you trying to kill me with flattery?? Hmmm? Are you? Cause I'm on my deathbed sister!

**Sevenismyluckynumber: **I was actually pretty worried about carrying the memory through the whole chapter, I didn't know if it would flow well enough. Thanks for easing my worries! I love that you noticed the signifigance of the chapter titles, and how the songs actually relate to the chappie itself...thank you! And trust me, I'm loving/hating Storm right now, too!

**Salena: **I can tell you wanna bash a rock against Stormy's head...lol. Thanks for reviewing!

**Stormy: **I'm by no means a Storm expert, but glad you liked the rest of it :)

**Airo25**(the grammar whore ;)) For some reason, my brain doesn't seem to register some of the grammar, and it drives me insane! No matter how many times I read over a chapter before posting it, I always manage to skip some annoyingly obvious mistake and when someone points it out I wanna rip my hair out! I don't think I'm dyslexic(thats probably spelled wrong lol) but sometimes I wonder...I've noticed I have problems with tense, too. I've been thinking for a while now about asking for a Beta, but I'm not sure. I think it would improve the fic a lot if I did, maybe I'll start lookin'...Ps- No need to apologize, it really helps me out when reviewers take the time to bring mistakes to my attention, so thanks for the dedication!  
**Airo25**(fan-girl, I still love this awesome story review!) I hadn't planned on Storm's visit being a mystery, but somehow, it worked out that way! I read over it, and I realized I did sorta leave out a lotta clues, but it seems like it worked so maybe I'll leave it...She is aching, but she's still sort of a bitch. After all, she's bitter towards a dead woman, which I think is rediculous, but then again, when Remy is the man in question- I'd get pretty vicious, too :) I will try watering their garden and planting more flowers I promise! But the winter is coming to their garden soon, and the flowers will have to die before the sprout up again in the spring...

**LeonHyuga: **I have a feeling you're never going to let me live down the whole confusing you with a girl thing, haha I'm still so embarrassed about that! I'm glad you're excited about the fight scene, but I hope I don't disappoint you guys. I'm absolotely horrible with fight-scenes, but we'll see...Hm, I suppose we could use a knife, but it'll take a lot longer, and our hands will probably cramp up, but we do what we gotta do! Remy did kind of settle, didn't he? I see it as him just not caring. Storm takes care of him and that's what he needs, so he stays with her. The whole situation is just sad :(

**Laceylou: **The relationship between Remy and Storm is definately a double-edged sword, and you summarized it perfectly. You the readers and I the writers love Storm for basically saving his life and helping him through life, but we also hate her because she isn't Rogue and will never be Rogue. We also pity her, because Remy does not love her and she knows this, she knows she's living in Rogue's shadow and probably will for the rest of her life. So much drama! Future Remy is an all-around tragic man. He doesn't want to live for himself, so he lets Storm live for him. It's unhealthy, and part of me wishes he could learn to let Rogue go and move on with his life...but I'm a hardcore ROMY fan lol so that's never gonna happen. I know you want to slap Scott, but Jean beat ya to it! You can still slap him if you want, he did say some pretty mean things to Remy. But unfortunately, some of these things needed to be said. I'm a little worried about the upcoming fight scene, because I suck at them! I hope I can make it up to your guys' standards, I don't want y'all to be disappointed! And if you're going to go in a coma, I simply must cut of your supply of angst! But then again, I made sure you got life insurance when we first got married, so you being gone could be a good thing...wait. What am I saying?! If you're gone I won't get anymore of you're amazing, make-me-smile reviews!

**AlpineWood: **Such thorough, lengthy reviews for so many chapters! You have no idea how much it means to me knowing the reviews take the time to do that, it makes me feel so great! It also motivates me to update quicker ;) Thank you so much!

~Review~


	13. Through the Fire

Through the Fire

_Walk in the flame again, I'll be there to hold your hand, keeping you safe until the end. And when the flood begins, I'll be there with you to stand, walking in faith until the end. I see you through the flood, I'll see you Through the Fire, see you through the storms-a-raging. I see you through the flood, I'll see you Through the Fire, see you through the storms-a-raging. ~Through the Fire- Day of Fire._

**2034.**

At first, all she did was dream. They were all pleasant dreams, but she felt she'd seen them before. Red eyes, stolen kisses, her veins throbbing, and something warm and fiery in her bosom.

She wanted to unravel these dreams, to uncover their secrets, but she was so tired, and they were so confusing and intertwined, they made no sense. Every time she traveled near the edge, near the place that she somehow _knew _would lead to her awakening, a force would push her back beneath the black waves, and she would return to a deep sleep once more.

Sometimes she would hear noises. They weren't close, but by no means far, either. Muffled voices and footsteps would sound overhead, but she knew she was too weak to ever reach them. She wondered many a time where she was being held, who had put her there, and when she could leave, but she was just so tired, bone-achingly tired…

She regained feeling in her body once, and very briefly. Her muscles ached, her head pounded, she went back to sleep, back to her endless dreams. It hadn't been the right time for her sleep to come to an end.

Waves of thoughts and emotions would wake her every so often, like little insects buzzing around in her mind. An aura would visit her frequently, an aura that was dark and in pain, but still familiar. This aura struck a chord somewhere deep inside of her, she wanted to comfort it, but she could not muster up the strength. The aura began speaking to her, and its voice was soothing and spicy at the same time, like soft jazz and cinnamon sticks.

Unconsciously, she began looking forward to the aura's visit. Its presence gave her wonderful dreams, dreams of a time when she did more than just slumber. She caught thoughts of the aura, she knew it needed her, needed her more than anything. She wanted to go to it, wanted to eradicate its hurt and despair, but she is so heavy, so sleepy…

Then the aura stopped coming to her, and she longed for it, called out to it. She needed to wake, there was something she had to do, someone who needed her…

It's the high-pitched, joyous laughter of a small child that ultimately wakes her, _fully _wakes her. She remembers suddenly that she has to do something, someone needs her. She'd made a promise long ago, and it was time to remember.

Scenes and images from a time she barely remembers ooze into her mind. Waves of smoke and mighty explosions, a volatile love, screams and cries.

"_Don' make me do dis-"_

The feeling of lips on hers, both the ecstasy and searing pain these lips brought her. The black sea swallowing her whole. The claws dragging her down, pools of blood against a black sky, Hell…

"_Forgive me, chere."_

She can feel him surrounding her, evading her senses and thoughts and desires. Where was he? Why wasn't he here with her? She had to find him, she promised…promised she would come back to him every time, that nothing could take her away from him- Suddenly, words, colors, and images bring the thoughts in her mind to life.

_The wind blows his short hair away from his forehead savagely, he's surrounded by flashes of fire. The flames send a warm glow across his angular features. His crimson orbs pulsating with urgency, he's begging her. _

"_Come back, don' leave me. Y' stronger den her, Rogue! Fight! Fight for Remy!"_

Her eyes snap open, she's alone.

_Walking the darkest rain, I'll cover you by my name, I'm shelter inside your world of pain. Step on the water's waves, come unto to me by faith. I am the light of better days. I see you through the flood, I'll see you Through the Fire, I see you through, the storms are raging. I see you through the flood, I'll see you Through the Fire, I see you through, the storms are raging. ~Through the Fire -Day of Fire_

Her eyes snap open, she's alone.

Her first coherent thought is that she should not be breathing. The rough rock beneath her, the endless, starry sky above her and the frigid, airless space around her alerts Rogue to the fact that she is still in space, and there isn't oxygen in space.

She barely feels the cold. In fact, she feels wonderful. Besides the confusion that came with her current state, nothing else is the matter. She works individual muscles, and finds them in perfect condition. Her entire body seems to have suffered no damage, but what about her friends? Where were they?

She stands up swiftly, and every inch of her body freezes in terror.

All that's left of the once large asteroid is now no bigger than a small car, she peers over the edge and sees the unending, dark abyss. Something happened here, and she hopes the predictions floating around in her head are wrong. She has no recollection of what could have caused this, she's floating through space on a rock and there is no one to be seen. Besides the stars, she is alone.

She lowers her shaking legs to the ground and brings her knees to her chest. She sends an echo through her mind, begging Phoenix to tell her what happened, what she'd done.

There is no returning call, and Rogue knows suddenly, certainly, that she'd killed them all. It's a horrible realization, to know that you murdered your friends, you couldn't stop the thing inside of you from destroying everything you'd ever loved. The Professor, the X-men, Remy…she killed him. She just got him back, held him in her arms, and then she killed him. Now, no matter how long and how hard she searched, she wouldn't be able to bring him back. This time, he was gone for good, and it was all her fault.

She looks down and opens her gloved hand. Her palm holds crushed pebbles, she'd been squeezing so hard it was no more than dust. She feels tears burning somewhere, but she can't seem to release them. This was beyond any relief tears could bring her, this tragedy was too shocking and agonizing for weeping.

Seemingly without her knowledge, flames engulf the mourning belle until she disappears. There one moment, gone the next.

* * *

He's there one moment, and gone the next. His opponent is much stronger and more powerful than Remy had originally assumed, and he's paying for his miscalculation.

He hears movement behind him, and is able to duck before the fiery arm of Starbolt can take his head off.

Whirling to his feet in one, liquid movement, Gambit flicks his wrist and the glowing ace of clubs leaves his fingers, and heads straight to the other man. A resounding explosion and the sound of Starbolt's unconscious body follows, Remy knows he's won, but just barely.

Sure enough, a violet light surrounds his fallen enemy's body seconds later, and then he's gone.

Remy crouches to his knees from both exhaustion and blood loss. He'd gotten separated from Rogue sometime before, he had to find her, had to make sure she was safe-

He rises to his feet, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. In his months away from the X-men, he hadn't trained daily or taken care of his body like he usually did, and he was receiving the consequences. His muscles ached, he was out of breath, and if it weren't for the element of surprise, he wouldn't have been able to beat Starbolt.

Swiping both blood and sweat from his forehead, he scans the field and slips more cards from his pocket. Silence in the middle of a fight was never a good thing.

He turns just in time to see Shadowcat phase through the wall.

"Kitty!" He moves to touch her arm, but she spins on him, her usually mild eyes wild with fright and tears.

"_Remy!" _She melts with relief and launches herself in his strong arms. Her sobs shake her little frame, he pets her back.

"S'gonna be okay, p'tite. Let's find de others-"

She stops crying and looks at him. He'd never seen the young girl look so tired before. "Pe-Pete is dead. He's _dead._"

It couldn't be. His metal skin, it would have protected him, right? "Are y' sure?"

Her lip trembles, but she's able to nod. "We lost track of you and Rogue first, we were so worried, but Jean said you two were together. Everything was going well, and then…" Her brown eyes go distant, he shakes her gently and encourages her to continue.

"And then they all just started attacking at once. Emma was knocked out almost immediately, Bobby got hurt trying to fight both her opponent and his opponent- oh Remy, there was so much blood! There's no way…no way Bobby could have survived that!"

He does not let her see his fear. "Den what happened? How did y'all get separated?"

"I-I can't remember exactly. All I know is, one minute we were all together, having each other's backs, and the next, Beast, Emma, and Bobby have been transported back to the base, Wolverine goes completely insane and starts slashing left and right, and then Scott and Jean get attacked, and, when I look up, only me and Pete are left-" She freezes with the mention of his name. "Oh god, _Pete!_ He's dead, Remy, dead!"

Remy wraps his arms around the distraught girl and silently bids the friendly Russian farewell. He'd been a good man, and though Remy never got particularly close to him, he could always sense a pure soul.

"We cry later, non? Right now, we gotta re-group and get back on our feet, d'accord?"

She nods, her small, pale face showing him that she trusted him completely.

He wants to tell her not to look at him that way.

They stick close to rocks and boulders, doing their best to remain unseen and unheard. Remy was quite impressed with Kitty's stealth. He supposes her powers helped a bit in that aspect, but nevertheless, she was doing better now than she ever had in any DR session. Of course, a life or death situation could cause people to do a lot more than they would for a simulation.

He puts a finger to his lips, she nods and they both peek over a boulder. The dry expanse of rock stretches out before them, as does the sight of Storm trying to fight three guards at once.

The wind leaves her hands and hits them like fierce bullets, but she's tiring quickly, Remy knows her opponents can sense that as well.

He licks his lips. "I wan' y' to go over dere, behind dat rock."

Her head snaps up to look at him. "Remy I can help you!"

He takes her hand in his and places a kiss on it. Despite the situation and all she'd seen this day, her cheeks still manage to turn red. "Of course y' can, p'tite. Mais Remy's gonna blow some t'ings up so we can help Stormy. Y' can help me all y' want after dat."

She nods. "Okay. But, but Remy-" She squeezes his hand. "Don't let anything happen, take care of yourself, okay?"

As she sprints away, he realizes she'd never said 'like' or 'totally' even once. It's an unimportant, mundane thought. He doesn't know why it seems so significant.

Maybe a small, deep part of his brain was trying to warn him that this would be the last time he'd ever see Katherine Pryde.

* * *

"When did y' know?" He leans heavily on her shoulder, needing the support. He can feel tears pouring from his eyes, he's too weak to wipe them away.

She wraps him up in her embrace, her long hair spilling across both of them. "I woke up one day a few years back, wanting Rogue more than I wanted to breathe." She lets out a humorless chuckle, her turquoise eyes go unfocused. "At first, I thought I was losing my mind. I then discovered those feelings were coming from the telepathic link I shared with Scott." She sighs. "I ignored it for a while, but I eventually had to sever the link and pretend I didn't have any clue."

The edges of his already-obscured vision go even hazier, his breathing turns shallow. "Why didn't y' ever confront him about it?"

Her fingers tighten on his shoulders. "I was weak back then, I didn't think I could live if Scott left me for Rogue."

He closes his eyes and trembles at the mention of her name. "An' now," he croaks.

"Now-" Jean's entire body goes loose, and somehow, he knows she's stronger than she's ever been. "Well, I confronted him didn't I?"

Everything goes black, he dreams of Rogue's emerald eyes.

* * *

She felt it when Piotr's heart stopped beating, when Bobby could no longer breathe, when Kitty's soul left her body. She sensed Lilandra's horror, Emma's agony as she woke from her concussion and held her dying lover, Remy's desperate attempts to find her. She knew Storm, Scott, and Jean were weakening, Betsy and Warren had surrendered to save their lives, and that Wolverine blamed himself for the death of his teammates.

She also knows she won't be able to hold Phoenix back much longer. Even now, when Rogue is straining her mind to hold her back, she can feel the dark heat of the being's power pushing against her shields, trying to drag the belle down…if the man above her is going to end this, he needed to end it _now._

He was powerful, The Gladiator. And noble, too. He didn't fight dirty or pull any tricks, though Rogue's sure Lilandra told him to not show her the same mercy she wanted the other X-men to receive from her Imperial Guard. But how could this supposed 'mercy' cause so many deaths? Piotr, Bobby, Kitty…she isn't worth their lives, and Rogue knows this. No matter how much she wants to stay on earth with her friends and lover, she can't, it just isn't meant to be. She'd known her fate years ago, and she'd been a fool to try and cheat her destiny.

But no more. "Hurry," she manages around the hold on her throat. If he squeezed just a little harder, this could all be over. She'll cause no more pain, no more lives will be lost because of her.

She stares up at his cobalt face with pleading eyes, she's terrified, she doesn't want to die, she doesn't want to sacrifice herself…only, she has to. For the sake of those she knew and those she doesn't, she _has _to perish on this asteroid.

"You were a worthy adversary-" It's true. She'd used the abilities of every psyche she'd ever absorbed, and he'd actually broken a sweat. "-and I regret that we did not meet under different circumstances." This was true as well. He didn't enjoy ripping friends and lovers apart, and she would have made an _excellent _addition to his Majestrix's guard.

His duty and his nobility clash against each other. This woman hadn't shown even one sign of being Phoenix, was this really fair?

She can tell where his thought process is going and she weeps- knowing that when he finally does muster up the strength to kill her, will be much too late.

Her eyes close briefly, Gladiator thinks she's preparing herself for death. When she opens them however, her once green orbs glow a hellish saffron.

* * *

Wolverine is no longer human. In a dizzying turn of events, his animalistic instincts have taken over and there's no turning back, not until all these bastards are dead.

He can still smell Bobby's blood, and the pungent odor that meant death was soon to follow. One minute- his back was turned for _one minute, _and when he turned around Emma was on the ground and Bobby was gurgling blood, he lost Kitty and Colossus, too. Jean and Scott, well, he isn't too worried about them. Combined, their powers made them a force to be reckoned with, he knows they'll survive.

His adamantium claws slice through flesh and bone like a knife through butter, he doesn't even turn around to asses the damage he's caused. All that mattered right here, right now, was the pounding in his ears and the grief and vengeance etched on his face. His comrade is dead, but he will not have died in vain.

As blood splatters across the dry earth and the screams of his victims fill his ears, it's like everything the Professor taught him was wiped away in an instant. The meditating, the mental sessions, the breathing techniques-they were all gone, and he was like he used to be, back when he roamed Canada's wilderness and caught his prey like an animal and ran with the wolves.

Back then he fought because he could, because he had no obligations or responsibilities. He fights now because his heart has never known such pain.

As he gives in even more to his wild side, he separates emotion from logic. Emotionally, he wants to fight for Rogue and stay by her side and bring her back home; safe. Logically, she is a danger to him and all he knows, and she's already been the cause of so much pain in his family. Logically, she isn't worth it.

Logically, he has to let her go. After all, the life of one was not equivalent to the lives of many.

* * *

She was still connected to his mind when he passed, she wishes he would have taken her with him. They'd gone everywhere together- Europe, Mexico, her father's flat in Morocco, why was this any different? Why did God take away the one thing that mattered to her?

Emma has her health, her looks, her money, but she'd give all that up and more to hold Bobby in her arms again. He took half of her with him, part of her brain, part of her heart, part of her soul. She needs them back, she needs to see them again.

She sits in a Shi'ar capsule, empty-eyed and hollow. They'd taken his body away, she wonders where to. Would they let him float in space? Would they cremate him and give her the ashes? Or would she get to keep his body, and bury him back on earth?

Warren and Betsy had visited her, offering condolences and comfort. She'd called them cowards and screamed at them to leave.

They nodded in understanding and departed hand-in-hand.

She'll never get to hold Bobby's cold, wonderful hand again.

* * *

Ororo slumps in his embrace and he falls to the ground, unable to hold both her weight and his own.

"S'okay, p'tite. We won, it's over."

She holds her left arm close to her torso. It's bent at a strange angle, and Remy knows its broken. He brushes white strands of hair from her smooth forehead, her watery, azure eyes open and watch him closely.

"Can you feel it," she murmurs.

He rips strips of cloth from his trench coat to make some sort of sling for her arm, and wraps her up in the remainder of his coat. "Feel what?"

Grunting and ignoring all the pain he's in, Remy lifts the weather witch and makes his way to the spot he'd last seen Kitty. He's trying desperately not to panic, for both his sake and Ororo's. He'd been distracted by the fight he and Ororo had managed to win, but now, as adrenaline leaves his system and weariness takes its place, he can no longer ignore his wounds or the fearful thought that Kitty had never come back to meet him.

There were many things, both good and bad, that could have happened to the girl. Perhaps she'd been transported back to the base, or she found Wolverine and decided to stay with him, or she could be hiding…

She could also be dead, but he doesn't let himself think of that.

"The hurt, the death, I can feel it so vividly. Are we the only ones left?"

She's delirious from the pain her arm was causing her, he knows this, but its still hard not to get sucked in the negative thoughts she's giving him.

"Who's left? Wolverine? Scott and Jean? We came here with thirteen and now only four are left on the field?"

He forces a nonchalant smirk and heads down a rocky embankment. "Y' miss calculated, p'tite. Wolverine makes one, Scott and Jean make three, y', me an' Kitty make six, and Rogue makes seven-"

"My friend," tears brim her eyes and she hides her face in his chest. "My dear, dear Remy. You and I both know that, that Kitty is gone. Where else would she be? Even if Wolverine found her, she would have come back to assist us. And Rogue? Rogue is gone, too, Remy. I think she knew she wouldn't make it, from the very beginning."

An invisible force barrels into Remy's stomach, and he nearly drops the woman in his arms. He hadn't heard her right, that was all. Rogue couldn't be- she was alive and breathing, he knows it. Storm was delirious, she couldn't think through the pain.

"Y' don' know none of dat. We can still win dis wit most of de team in tact. Together, we've taken down at least six of de guard total. An' dats not countin' de ones de others have defeated. I saw Rogue fightin' earlier, she can take care of herself. Hell," he chuckles, it sounds desperate even in his own ears. "She's probably lookin' for me right now." His knees shake and crack, he can't go any further.

"She and I fought beside one another, Remy." Her voice is soft, her good hand reaches up to stroke his jaw. "I saw Gladiator grab her by the neck and fly away. I, I wanted to go after them, but I was severely outnumbered." She moans and then cries harshly. She's passed out moments later.

Remy stops walking and looks to the stars.

"Can y' see moi, chere?" He collapses, he doesn't remember Scott and Jean finding him.

* * *

She reappears on the mansion roof. Of all places, did she really have to end up here? Where the memories and ghosts would haunt her mercilessly? If she took the time to think about it, it made sense. Where else could she have gone? There was nothing for her in Mississippi, or with Mystique, or with anybody else. All she had is gone, she killed them.

She trembles and curses the rising sun. How dare it? How dare it rise and go on when the lives of her friends were diminished? They'd never rise again, they'd never get to move on, to live life. But she's still here, she's still suffering. She'd give anything, anything for them to come home to her, to smile and heal and move on-

She shoots up, slightly sore from the hard concrete. Something was tickling the back of her mind, something familiar but vague. It woke her from her restless sleep and made her hopes jump.

She looks to the sky, the moon was big and so close, she could touch it…but it's what's in front of the moon that makes her heart stop. Something big, something black…but it couldn't be, they were dead, she killed them…

She leaps into the air and zooms towards the aircraft, her relief becoming more and more tangible the closer she gets.

She never thought she'd be so happy to see the Blackbird.

* * *

She rounds the corner after hearing Remy's explosion. She could see that he was already in the thick of it all, fighting alongside Storm and taking down anyone in his way.

The two of them made it look so effortless, like it was a ball instead of a battle. She hoped that one day, she could be the kind of X-man they were: strong and brave and confident in what she did. When they got back home, she was definitely changing some things in her life. If she'd trained harder in the Danger Room, she might have been able to help Piotr and the others more, she could more proficiently defend herself, instead of relying on others.

She's so close she can see Remy's glowing eyes. Almost there…

She doesn't notice the hulking robot materialize behind her. When she finally feels its penetrating gaze, she has no time to phase herself and its laser slices right through her.

Her bright, chocolate colored eyes grow cold and dim as the life seeps out of her.

* * *

Ororo glows a violet hue in his arms, and he panics. Jean kneels next to him, explaining that Ororo was simply being transported to the base, and that she'd be receiving the medical attention she needed.

He remembers suddenly that Jean is a telepath, and he takes her hands in his.

"Can y' sense Rogue? Is she alive?"

Scott stiffens. "What are you taking about? Why wouldn't she be alive?"

Both Remy and Jean ignore the distraught man, and Jean looks deeply into Gambit's eyes. "Truthfully? I have no idea. Rogue's mind has always been hard to track." Before he can faint she shakes him. "But I'm positive I would have felt if she died. I've lived with Rogue for years, and my mind has come into contact with hers many times, not only including the times I've imprinted her mind, but the times she's absorbed me and imprinted me in her mind. I would have felt _something, _Remy, so don't lose hope."

He uses her words as a floatation device. The hope that Rogue is still alive is the only thing keeping him above water.

"We have to keep moving," Scott's voice disrupts the quiet. "Jean, can you get a lock on Wolverine?"

"No need, bub." The bloodied Canadian comes over the hill, his uniform is beyond repair. "I'm right here." He looks over the rag-tag group, his eyes fill with hurt. "Are we, are we the only ones left?"

Remy can't seem to get his voice working.

"Hank, Ororo, Betsy, Warren, and Emma are all back at the base," Scott answers, trying to keep his voice level and failing miserably at it.

"The others, what about them? Where's Rogue? Where's Kitty and Pete?"

Jean looks down at Remy. "We don't know about Rogue, but the others…" she muffles her cries in the crook of her arm.

Logan has never hated his mutation quite so much. It comes to him now, that those kids, those _kids _were dead, and he's still here. He'll _always _be here, mourning them. Maybe his memory loss was a blessing. How many other deaths has he lived through?

Before Remy can open his mouth to beg them to continue the search for Rogue, a piercing, white light fills the sky and he's blinded.

All their mouths open, poised to scream, but no sound is released. A high-pitched wail is all they can hear, the sound is similar to a bird. And then Phoenix appears in the sky, encased in the burning form of a mighty bird. Its head looks towards the black sky and its wings spread across the entire width of the asteroid.

Remy is temporarily without sight, but he knows, somehow, that Rogue is in the center of that bird, of that Hell.

* * *

She's reminded by their grieving faces as she phases through the wall of the plane that for the most part, this would not be a joyful reunion.

She stands before them all, her green eyes trying not to notice the empty seats. She hears Scott and Logan turn from their posts as pilot and co-pilot to stare at her. Jean's mouth falls open, Hank pauses the task of placing Ororo's arm in a cast. The Professor looks old, she can feel Emma's hatred and Betsy and Warren's fear.

But there's love, too, and before she can react, she feels arms enclose her from behind.

She turns to him, taking in his blindfold, his crooked smile, the peach fuzz atop his head-and she breaks down like she wasn't able to break down hours before.

"How did ya know ah was here? What happened to yoah eyes?" She presses her face against his chest and breathes in his scent.

"I always know when my chere comes back to moi. Dis only temporary, I'll get to see dat belle face of yours in a few days."

She knows the team is hurting and can't forgive her just now, maybe they never would, but she knows she'll have Remy forever, and maybe he's all she needs.

* * *

All he can see is black, and fuzzy patches of grey. He gropes for the ground or a rock, or anything, but heat slams against him and he falls to his back.

"Jean! Jean where are y'?" He yells so loudly his throat aches, but his voice is captured by the wind and whirled up to the sky, unheard.

He hears screams, cries, he knows Phoenix is on a rampage, but who is she murdering? The enemy, or the X-men? Will he be the next to fall?

He gets on all fours and begins to crawl, feeling his way across the rugged landscape. The very ground quakes, the loud whine of splitting ground erupts before him, but before he can fall into the crevice a hand jerks out to grab his arm, and he's lifted to safety.

The person tries speaking to him, but their voice is also carried away, even though he can feel their breath on his ear. That close, and still, the mighty cry of the Phoenix is able to drown it out.

The person throws him over their shoulder, he knows now it must be Wolverine. His empathy spans out, he can feel Jean and Scott close to them, he can't help but feel relieved.

After that, Remy doesn't remember much. He can vaguely recall returning to Lilandra's base, and then boarding the ship. He can also recall begging them over and over again to go back for Rogue. Didn't they understand? He _needed _her, she was all he had.

The final destruction of the asteroid rocks the Blackbird and sends equipment flying everywhere. Beast tries looking him over when things settle down, Remy continues to scream at them to go back for his chere-

"Don't you understand?" He'd never heard Emma so cold. "She's gone, her body is still there but she has no chance of surviving _mentally. _She killed the rest of them, only Gladiator and Lilandra survived. Everyone else, _everyone else _is dead, Remy. And right now? Right now she's feeding off those poor souls and what's left of the asteroid. All she cares about is more power, all she wants is too _feel. _Why should we try to save her when it's her fault that Bobby and Kitty are dead?"

Remy hides his face away, but looks up when Scott comes to Rogue's defense.

"No one was forced to do this, Emma. Bobby loved Rogue, just like we all do. He stayed by his friend's side through her time of need. Isn't that what being an X-man is all about?"

"Look where his loyalty got him," she hisses.

Remy feels Jean hold him, he gives into the waves of pain, mulling over Scott's words. He knows he'd be lashing out the same way Emma was if Rogue had died fighting for any of them.

"Could y' try to locate her again?"

Is that bitterness that taints Xavier's voice? "Not just now, Remy." He turns back to look out of the window, he can't stop thinking of the students that weren't returning with them.

* * *

She says it for the first time three weeks after their return to earth. He'd been holding her tight to his chest, reveling in the feel of her naked body against his and thanking whoever was up there that he still had her.

"This isn't over, ya know." Her eyelids flutter closed and her hand bunches against his stomach. "Ah'll have to die eventually. Somethin' like me don't belong in the universe."

He becomes angry. "How could y' say dat, chere? Kitty and Bobby died fightin' for y' and y' just gonna…give up?"

The guilt she'd been bearing from all the looks and forced smiles of the X-men come over her all at once, and she weeps in his embrace. She tells him about absorbing Irene, the visions and nightmares, the energy it took trying constantly to keep Phoenix at bay.

"And the X-men, they resent me, Remy. Whether they admit it or not, they'll never forgive me!"

He knows banter and jokes won't ease her worries this time, and he's at a loss. What can he say to make her understand that her life _was _worth living?

"Den live for _me_, chere. Cause if y' go, I go."

Fresh tears spring to her eyes and she kisses him. "Ah'll always be here for ya, Remy."

He somehow knows she doesn't believe her own lie.

* * *

It was the middle of the second month when she began slipping from his grasp. Her eyes were gold more often than they were emerald, southern twang was falling from those ruby lips less and less.

She left their bed at all times of the night, going God knows where and doing God knows what. It hurt and worried him not knowing what she was doing, or if she was safe. It killed him not knowing if she would return to him. He tried preparing himself for the morning when she wouldn't reappear on the window sill and slip back into bed.

Once, when Rogue was having a 'good' night and they were laying on the roof, he asked her where she went every night.

She smiled wistfully. "To the stars and back. It's incredible, Remy. So many beautiful stars and planets! The sun lights up the dark and ah use it to find my way home, to ya." She lent over and kissed his lips. "If only ah could take ya with me."

But as time passed, even her adventures beyond the atmosphere were kept from him.

After that, she stopped speaking altogether. Sometimes, he thought he saw her open her mouth, but she would close it and go back to laying in the fetal position. Ironically, the physical aspect of their relationship maintained its frequency, thanks to Phoenix. The physical began eroding the emotional they'd built.

In the middle of lovemaking, Phoenix's eyes would glow and she'd flip him over, so that he was beneath her. Her hands would clamp down harshly on his wrists, she'd smirk cruelly and take what she wanted from him. It was all about the touching, the sensations. She cared nothing for the love he and Rogue shared. She got her release, got to play at being human for awhile, and that's all she wanted.

When she used him up she would dress and leave him in the cold, lonely bed whilst she soared the skies.

He would lay awake for hours, his throat burning from unshed tears.

He didn't _want _Rogue's body when she wasn't in it, but he knew if he didn't please her Phoenix would find someone else that would, and Remy couldn't bear the thought of that.

He sometimes wonders if Rogue can see what she's doing, can see how painfully and torturously slow she's killing everything they've ever built together.

**New York, 2034.**

It was warm on that day, the last good day. The flowers were in full bloom, the sun rose early and set late, washing everything in a bright glow all day. He remembers taking a drag of his cigarette and watching the birds frolic in the daisies, seemingly unbothered by the fat, hairy bumble bees surrounding the area.

He remembers small arms going around his waist. He turned, nearly weeping with relief at the sight of her jaded orbs. How long had it been since he'd seen her true eye color? Days? Weeks? Whatever the time, his chest was aching daily and it was getting harder and harder for him to get up from bed every morning and pretend everything was okay, pretend that Rogue was still going to pull through.

Even now, the memory of how she looked that day is startlingly vivid.

The setting sun had sent a pink glow across her porcelain skin, the fading light seemed to get trapped in her bright eyes.

The warm breeze lifted every chocolate and vanilla curl individually, brushing gently across her face and kissing her rosy cheeks. And her eyes, he'd let himself get lost in those endless, green depths. He lent forward hungrily, capturing her plump, sweet-tasting lips in a searing kiss. Her mouth was contradictory: innocent yet inviting at the same time.

They parted reluctantly, her cool breath hit his lips, making him yearn for more of her. "Things are gonna get bad," she murmured.

Her hands had clamped around his arms desperately, her tears brimmed and slid down her cheeks, he remembers wiping them away.

"Ah can't fight her anymore. Ah tried, lord knows ah did, but she's too strong, and ah'm too weak."

He remembers wanting to shake her, to remove all the negative thoughts and pessimistic words and just cleanse her. He wanted her to hope, because he was hoping all the time and his heart could only carry so much weight by itself. This was perhaps the first time he noticed just how different he and Rogue were. Her heart was torn, bloody and barely stitched together. His was crusted over but still soft on the inside, still able to hope and dream. He was hoping and dreaming for a life Rogue had already known she'd lost.

He kisses her again, then presses his face into her creamy neck. She smelled so good, she _felt _so good.

Maybe if he'd held on tight enough, she could've stayed with him; always.

"It's not fair, is it?" He could hear the finality and remorse in her voice. "We finally did it, we finally made it work, an' ah have to leave." Her eyelids closed. "Ah don't wanna leave ya," she whispered. Her lashes made dark crescents against her cheeks.

"Y' won' leave me," he replied stubbornly. He intertwined their hands together possessively. "I won' let her tear us apart, chere." And he'd believed it, too. He'd believed his strength alone was enough to stop the unstoppable.

He started to speak more, but her finger had gone over his mouth. "Just hold me, Remy. Please?"

He did as she asked, their kisses turned into something more and for the first time in a long time, Remy was able to make love to Rogue, and _only _Rogue.

He'd been naïve enough back then to think the lack of Phoenix's presence was a good thing.

_I see you through the flood, I'll see you Through the Fire, I see you through, the storms are raging. I see you through the flood, I'll see you Through the Fire, I see you through, the storms are raging. __I see you through the flood, I'll see you Through the Fire, I see you through, the storms are raging. Don't be afraid, I'll never leave you. I am forever yours. Forever yours, forever yours I am. ~Through the Fire- Day of Fire_

* * *

You were all pretty sure Rogue was going to die this chapter, weren't ya? But she didn't! What is Merr2 planning?

I'd like to thank **Laceylou76 **for helping me out with the battle scene. She's the one who suggested I break it up into parts, and her advice really made things easier for me. Now, on to your reviews:

**Laceylou: **I'd rather have you more than I would the insurance money, and plus, there's more angst coming, so try to fight off that coma for a little bit longer! You had good reason to be nervous it seems, because we had a few casualties during this fight. Surprisingly, Rogue is still alive, but for how long? The X-men are alienating her, and that's the last thing she needs right now. I have to mention it one more time: Thank you so much for the idea, it really helped everything come together. I hope I made ya proud;)

**LeonHyuga: **I'm glad you noticed the returning theme of the 'inevitable future'. Everything is so hopeless, because no matter how much the characters try, we, the readers, already know how things will turn out, and that, at the end, Rogue and Remy will be torn apart. Sad, but still interesting in a dark kind of way. _'Having them return almost felt like a crime to me.' _I couldn't agree with you more. Somehow, Remy could sense that if he and Rogue returned with the X-men, they'd lose their last chance to make their own life and get trapped once again, as it turns out, he was correct in his predictions. I think subconciously, Remy always knew he wouldn't be able to save Rogue, but he's too stubborn to give up on her. Bringing the X-men together one last time before the battle was something I couldn't help but do. After all, If I knew I was about to participate in something that could kill me, I'd spend my remaining time with the people I loved. And I think I always knew I was gonna have Jean and Betsy forgive the belle. Despite the pain and terror they'd experiemced because of her, they still love Rogue, and want to help her. And as Jean mentioned, Rogue was there for her when she went through this. To answer your question about the length of time they'd made love, let me explain. When I put 'few hours', I meant 2 or 3 hours, I should have probably been more detailed but...I don't think 2 or 3 hours is unrealistic, even for normal human beings. Most experienced men can last longer, and Remy is a _very _experienced man( as we all know) In my opinion, guys should last until the girl is done, and who knows how long that could take :) I feel so awkward after that response :P

**Crazyrightnow: **Your congrats and praise are much appreciated. Comparing me to the comics was quite a confidence-booster, so thank you very much!

**A: **I did make an effort, I'm glad you noticed :) You're too sweet!

**AlpineWood: **Rogue knowing that long ago about her fate was something I hadn't thought to add until the very last minute, actually. By leaving the Brotherhood and joining the X-mn, she played into fate and ended up absorbing Jean anyway. It just shows that we're all fortune's fools. And you're right, even if she stayed with the Brotherhood, they'd come in contact with the X-men before, and there could have been a chance of Rogue absorbing Jean also. Either way, it seems our southern belle was meant to become that horrible she-demon one way or another :( Thank you for always complimenting my attempts at humor, we can't have things stay angsty all the time! Hahaha you aren't a pervert, sister, trust me! If i was any good at writing sex scenes, I would have made it more graphic, too. ;)

**Ruroca: **So many sounds(or lack thereof) Qite out of character by stealing, but we all know Rogue's apetite is something else, the girl was too hungry to resist! And though the shoplifting scene made for good laughs, it's also pretty sad because it shows how different Rogue has become :( Those damn X-men, always managing to poke their noses in and ruin a perfect situation! I kinda laughed while wriritng the scene, cause I could just imagine all the disappointed 'ahhhhhhh's' there would be when the X-men arrived. But, like you said, they got to finally make love, so that's good. Unfortunately, the drama still followed them and things got pretty heated...so much drama! Remy finally got to beat the crap out fo Scott, Rogue revealed her true feelingsabout the whole thing, Jean exploded and stopped staying quiet, and yes, Emma and Bobby _are _idiots. Your excitment for the next chapter is making me excited to write it!

**New Moon Night: **Your wait is over! Thanks for the review :)

**Cassie: **Your review made my laugh for your information! I agree that there's lots of drama, like, soap opera levels of drama.

**Payla: **'Explosion of Emotions' I like how you worded that, because it fits what happened perfectly. Everyone's emotions came blowing out, just like a volcano or something.

**aiRo25: **_You're _speechless? What? You being speechless is like having a page full of compliments sent to me every five minutes or something! You're right, Remy's intuitive abilities are through the roof, and if only he managed to sneak her off before the X-men started searching, they could have (possibly) been able to stay together. But I doubt it, either way, Rogue would have lost total control eventually, and she could have ended up hurting Remy. It was definately exciting writing their love-making scene. finally, after two years, they could express all that pent up passion, and it made me get a little girly and watery-eyed, especially since I already knew things were going to go to shit minutes after they were done :( Jean deserved to blow up after being quiet for so long. I'm glad, too that she realized Rogue had always been there for her, and that Scott was being a selfish, unthinking ass before it was too late. There is so much more I want to say to you in regards to other things you mentioned, but I'm afraid of getting carried away and revesling too much...I would love to have you beta for me, but I'm telling you right now I have no idea how anything works, soooo...also, I'm a little worried about the time issue. I take forever to write, you take forever to beta, put those together and you get one, huge forever! Let me know what you think, and see ya next time! (Oh, and sorry for blaming 'The Reeling' on you)


	14. Give 'em Hell, Kid

Give 'em Hell, Kid

_Oh baby here comes the sound! I took a train outta New Orleans and they shot me full of ephedrine. This is how we like to do it in the murder scene. Can we settle up the score? If you were here I'd never have a fear. So go on live your life, but I miss you more than I did yesterday. You're beautiful! ~Give 'em Hell, Kid - My Chemical Romance_

**New Orleans, Louisiana. 2017.**

He pulls away from his family and the X-men, complaining of a headache. "I'll meet y'all at de church," he murmurs.

The day had been chock-full of last minute arrangements, wardrobe tweaks, flower melt downs, and stupid, clueless guests he didn't even know.

He'd always assumed his wedding (if he ever decided to settle down of course) would be simple and quiet. All he would need was a pastor and the woman he loved by his side. If she wanted a big wedding, however, he'd give it to her, but he never saw her as that type. If he had his way, his tux wouldn't be stiff and uncomfortable like it is now. And his bride wouldn't have stuffed herself into a too-small, ridiculously decorated get-up that made him want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Instead of pulling her white locks back from her head and clipping it in a bun, his bride would wear her chestnut curls down, free and hanging by her breasts. He'd find burning love and passion in her emerald eyes, not tamed contentment in icy blue ones. And her porcelain skin would glimmer in the light just like always, he'd resist the urge to kiss her plump, red lips before the preacher even began-

He goes pale at the direction of his thoughts.

After entering the house and trying to regain his composure, Remy stops and looks into the old, gold-trimmed mirror along the wall.

As a child, he'd made faces in that mirror and smeared all kinds of things on it. As a teenager, he'd popped the rare pimple and checked his hair before a date. And now, as he looks into the mirror a grown man, his eyes close because he does not the pathetic, helpless person staring back at him.

"I always knew y' was touched."

"What y' doin' in here, Tante?" He turns from the mirror as a sign of respect, and rests his eyes on her old frame. She was thin and twisted from arthritis, no more than a bag of bones. She was in a wheel chair all the time now, and half the size she used to be, but her black eyes were still witty and sharp, and she read him just as easily as she'd read him years ago.

She doesn't dignify his question with a response. "De day yo' daddy die, he tell me dis: 'Mattie, dat boy touched. If he shows up t' bid me farewell, kill me first, cause dat a devil child and he'll steal my soul.'"

He raises his eyebrow, uninterested in anything having to do with Jean-Luc. "An' what did y' say?"

"I said he was a damn fool, dats what I say." She snorts and wraps her withered fingers around the armrest. "Y' see, I _knew _y' was touched, mais not de kind of touched y' pere an' other folk thought. From de very minute I saw y' huddled in dat alleyway, I knew y' were somethin' special."

A wave of love he hasn't felt for Tante, or anyone else for that matter, in so very long washes over him suddenly and he wonders how he ever left this woman's side. They'd survived so much, he and Tante, and they were both here, breathing and going on. Living on the streets, losing the love of their life- they had so much in common, so much to reminisce about. Why had they never confided in each other before?

"It didn't matter how mean dey were or what dey said, y' knew y' were special an' didn't care 'bout dem other folks, til one day." Her sagged cheeks fall, tears form in the corners of her eyes. "De night y' killed dat boy, de spirits around y' changed. Y' were exiled before I got de chance to protect y', an' I'm sorry fo' dat."

Remy smiles and shakes his head. "Wasn't nothin' y' coulda done, Tante. What happens, happens. Remy survived."

"Did y', boy?" Her gaze strips him of all lies and he stands before her, bared. _This _is why he never confided in her, because Mattie Rose was one woman that couldn't be charmed or lied to. And, now that he thinks about it, he didn't _want _to lie or charm her. For once, just one time in his entire life, he wants the chance to be completely honest.

He wants to show Tante the honesty he'd never showed Rogue.

"I watched dat girl, watched her like I was a hawk. I was waitin' for a sign, for de spirits to whisper in my ear, mais she disappeared an' I _knew _I was too late."

He frowns, suddenly confused. "What girl? Too late for what?"

She rolls her eyes, impatient at his slowness. "De girl y' were meant t' marry, de girl dat cursed y' with her own life."

Oxygen leaves his lungs and he trembles. "Belle. Y' talkin' 'bout Belle."

She nods, her chin trembling from exhaustion. It'd been a long time since she'd spoken this much, but she knows it's almost time and she has to tell him this before it's her turn to rest. "I lived on de bayou for forty years, I grew up wit magic: good magic, black magic, an' everyt'ing in between. Curses are especially easy to sense, I can smell one from a mile away."

He takes in her determined stance and tears, and he laughs. "Wait, y' tryin' to say someone put a curse on moi?"

"Belladonna put a curse on y', I-" She whips out her cane from no where and shakes it at him. "Boy if y' don' stop laughin' at me, I'll beat y' like y' was little!"

He clears his throat sheepishly and motions for her to continue.

She glares at him a little longer before speaking. "De curse she put on y' is rare, mainly because suicide is de only way to activate de curse."

The remainder of Remy's smirk slides from his face and he's left in a state of realization and painful shock. "Non…"

What he's thinking can't be true, no matter how much sense it made. He believed in magic, voodoo, curses and all that, how couldn't he? Growing up where he did meant believing in spells and witches, and respecting those who had the power to wield such abilities.

Belladonna didn't have that kind of power, her soul was too shallow and her mind too dim. She couldn't have cursed him, her suicide had been just that, a suicide.

But then he begins to remember the words she'd spat at him: _"Y' a selfish man, Remy Lebeau…"_

Tante does not say anything, does not offer comfort or an explanation. She just watches him with those endless, black eyes. He feels faint, he can't stand up anymore.

"_It may not be now, it may not be twenty years from now, mais someday de God y' don' believe in is gonna make y' pay."_

He should have recognized the words, such a simple chant. He should have watched, he could have seen the power crackling from her fingers. And her eyes, the way they'd captured the moon's light had not been normal.

Using her own life as payment, she'd cursed him. Sinister, the Morlocks, the death and anguish and shit that had racked his life after that night was all because of her, wasn't it? He isn't one to push the blame on others, he can see his own faults, but did he really deserve that much? If Belle hadn't cursed him that night, would things be different? Would he have some sort of success to show for his life? Would he be happy? Would he still have _her_?

"_Someday de lord is gonna hurt y' like you've hurt so many people."_

And hurt he has. He's hurt for years, every day, every second of every minute of every hour. When he lost her he lost everything, he's nothing without her.

It hits him out of the blue, and causes him to weep. It all makes sense now, he understands why Tante had to tell him this.

Rogue.

He would never get peace from her memory, would he? There would always be something or someone that reminded him of her. He would never be able to watch the cherry blossoms flitter to the ground without thinking of her innocence, he'd never be able to examine an emerald without thinking of her eyes.

He was cursed, and it was so simple yet so complex it blows his mind.

"Belle's curse is de reason Rogue's dead, isn't it, Tante?" His voice sounds tired and hollowed out, even to his own ears.

"I can't say dat fo' sure, her fate could have already been decided before Belle made de curse."

"Mais it's de reason I can't let her go, it _has _to be! Why else would I feel dis terrible every day of my life? Why am I dyin' inside?"

His eyes plead with her for some kind of answer, but she doesn't have one to give.

She wheels over to the kneeling, weeping man and rests her hand on his shoulder. She died for dat curse cause she had nothin' left, she made it powerful. It could be de cause of de green-eyed girl's death, it could be why her death is still so painful, or it could be somethin' different all together. All I can say is dat de only way to lift dat curse is wit death. A life for a life."

He lifts his head and buries it in her lap. "I'm so tired of hurtin', Tante. I'm so tired of livin' without her."

"Ain't no rest for de weary, chile." She pats his head, connecting herself to the spider web of dark energy surrounding him. "A life for a life," she repeats.

By the time he understands it's too late. Tante is dead and he can _feel _that his soul has been freed.

His vision goes black.

_Well I'm a total wreck and almost every day. Like the firing squad or the mess you don't I look pretty walking down the street in the best damn dress I own? If you were here I'd never have a fear. So go on live your life, but I miss you more than I did yesterday. You're so far away. ~Give 'em Hell, Kid- My Chemical Romance_

His vision goes black.

He wakes in a hard bed hours later, bruised and disoriented. The monitors beep at steady intervals and the white sheet feels more like sandpaper than cloth. He even hears Hank shuffling papers and smells the coffee brewing in the doctor's office.

He's definitely in the med lab, but what for? The last thing he remembered, he and Rogue were-

Rogue.

He sits up, ignoring his protesting back, and searches the room with wild eyes. It takes him only seconds to discern that Rogue is not in the room with him, and his first reaction is to think the worst: were they in another battle he couldn't remember? Is she dead?

He pulls the tape from the IV's and rips the tubing harshly from his arm, splattering droplets of blood across the too-white sheet. His hands shake, and when he scoots to the side of the bed and hops up from the side, the world turns upside down and he must lean against the flimsy mattress to stop himself from falling over.

After a few deep breaths things stop spinning around him, but the fatigue doesn't leave his legs, and his hands don't stop trembling. He must have gotten hurt pretty bad to be this weak. Even a hard knock to the head wouldn't have him-The Indestructible Gambit, feeling this badly.

Deciding to take his time, he sits back on the bed and tries remembering past the last five minutes. He and Rogue…he and Rogue what? He recalls the feeling of her curvaceous body molding into his hands, the heat and passion of her lips, and then- nothing. No pain, no fighting, just pleasure and ecstasy. Now he's here, wrapped in a hospital gown that smelled like it'd had better days, and a soreness in his muscles that leads him to believe he's been here longer than a couple days.

Whatever happened to send him here, his gut is telling him Phoenix had something to do with it. Didn't she always? But this obvious fact does not explain exactly why he's here, or where the hell Rogue is or if she's okay.

She must be hurt, too, why else would she not be here, watching over him while he recovered?

He pushes all negative thoughts from his mind and focuses at the task at hand. Steadying himself, he puts one foot in front of the other. His head throbs but he makes progress before running into an invisible wall. Ouch.

The hopeful pounding of his heart disappears as Jean rounds the corner instead of Rogue. "What's de big idea? What if I had broken dis perfect nose a' mine?"

The red-head snorts and retracts the shield. "Now get back to bed, you shouldn't be up."

He ignores her request. "Isn't it Hank's job to patrol the patients?"

"Yes, but he needs a little help with the more difficult ones, and that's why I'm here." She takes his arm and leads him the few feet back to the bed. "It was a good attempt by the way, trying to change the subject like that." She ignores the glare he sends her and pushes him back against the pillows.

"Y' sayin' I'm difficult?"

She smirks and pulls a fresh pair of clothes from the pantry. "I had 'Ro bring you some fresh clothes. Wanna shower or something?"

His pulsating eyes flash naughtily. "Aren't patients supposed to get sponge baths from de nurses?"

"Good thing I'm not a nurse," she deadpans.

The Cajun slumps in the bed with true disappointment. "Oh well, maybe Roguey will give me one-"

Something like a wince goes over her face, but she smothers it before he can get a good look.

"I'm going to put these in the bathroom, I'll be right back."

The apprehension comes back and he needs to know where Rogue is. "Is Rogue sleepin'?"

"And don't get out of bed!" She walks through the glass doors to the med lab bathroom without stopping to answer him.

He knows now that something is horribly, terribly wrong, and he won't be able to wait for Jean's return to figure this all out.

It isn't as painful or tiring to get out of bed this time, and by the time he reaches the end of the room and goes into the hallway he's walking normally. Despite the ease, sweat forms on his skin and he leans heavily on the wall for support. But he won't rest until Rogue is here, laying beside him.

He finds her right where she said she'd be, in the bathroom reserved for patients. Her back is towards him, she's already started the shower. His gaze goes briefly over her lithe body and he tries to hide all traces of exhaustion.

"T'inkin' 'bout joinin' me in dere, p'tite?"

She gasps and whips around, her red hair surrounding her like a moving, liquid flame, it was quite a breathtaking sight. He'd always noticed Jean's beauty, but he'd been so thoroughly wrapped up in Rogue since he'd come to the mansion, he'd never really noticed just how gorgeous she was.

"You scared me half to death!" Her brows come together in a frown, he loves it when she gets angry...doesn't he?

"And what the hell are you doing out of bed, I told you to-" As soon as her hands touch his chest lighting strikes, and for a moment all he wants to do is undress her and shove her in the shower with him.

Its obvious from the reddening of her cheeks that she feels this strange, unfamiliar lust as well. "Y' don' wan' me to fall over in dere, do y'?" The words leave his mouth in a much huskier tone than he'd imagined in his head. Confusion makes his thinking slow, she comes closer before he can stop her. Being this near to her was not good for some reason, he shouldn't- but he needs her, he needs her and Rogue abandoned him-

"Remy, you're going to get even sicker-" She leans in even closer, his hands seemingly form a mind of their own and touch the small of her back, then her hip, his thumb presses into the sensitive flesh beneath her hip bone and she whimpers.

Its her whimper that eradicates all sense of thought and reality, and Remy does not want to deny this feeling any longer. His hands run all over her, his mouth nears hers. "I'm gonna kiss y', Jean."

He does as he says and their tongues mingle together. He was here for something, he needed to ask her something, but all his mind can process is this heated lust and the feeling of Jean's hand against his stomach.

In a hot frenzy, the fatigue he'd felt earlier leaves him and he lifts the thin woman easily, pressing her against the wall and pushing her legs apart to grant him access.

"Remy, no, we can't-" But she's putting up the same resistance as putty in his hands.

His fingers knead the inside of her thigh, rising higher and higher until her teeth clamp down around her knuckle and she finally can't stop herself from begging him for more. He gives her more. He plays with the spots he knows will drive her crazy, especially through clothing. He likes the sounds of her pleasure, but he's strangely detached- like he's not really here, like he's watching a movie through the actor's eyes. It all felt surreal, like a dream.

Faster than either of them expected, Jean's clothing piles on the floor and Remy takes advantage of all that exposed flesh. He touches her in ways that make her stomach muscles contract, and uses his mouth to kiss and nibble her while his hands are full.

It isn't long before all his undivided attention shoots Jean to the top, and she melts in his oh-so experienced hand.

Her release spurs him on all the more, he suckles her bottom lip harshly. He knows he must take her, knows he can no longer ignore the need wreaking havoc in his very bones.

He pauses, and looks down at her. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen. Desire has made her pupils dilate and her breathing rate soar. But when he focuses, when he takes the time to look at this situation and really _think_, it makes no sense. There is fear and confusion along with lust in her sea-colored eyes, and before he knows it he's pulled away from Jean.

He backs away from her like she's a predator and he's a scared animal. When his back hits the wall he turns away from her, nausea rocks his stomach. He holds his head in his hands, trying to separate emotion and want from thought and logic. Jean was attractive, she was beautiful, but he'd never wanted her like _this. _

When he turns back to face her she's muffling her cries in her hands, her discarded shirt is wrapped around her chest.

"I'm so sorry, Remy." He tries to sympathize with the remorse in her wavering voice, but all he can do is watch and try to ease the horrible feeling bubbling in his gut. "I _knew, _and I still let something like this happen-"

"What are y' tryin' to say, Jean?" He tries to sound calm, but his burning eyes give him away. "Stop wit all de bullshit. Tell me where de hell Rogue is and why _dat _just happened."

The red-head nods and steels herself against all her emotions. "Phoenix is powerful, but she's still in the body of another, meaning there's still some resistance. Rogue has one of the most intricate and difficult minds I've ever worked with, and the Professor thinks the same. In order to achieve full assimilation, Phoenix has to break Rogue's will, no friends, no family, no _you. _You're the only reason Rogue is still fighting Phoenix's hold. If Rogue loses trust in you-"

It all makes sense now, and he can barely speak around the rage fuming inside of him. "She did dis, didn't she?"

Jean's lip trembles, she nods. "I tried avoiding you, I knew something was going on-" Her control shatters and her cries start where they left off. "-but she's so powerful, and it's been so long since Scott and I…since we-"

"And Rogue? Where is she?" He knows cutting her off is cruel, but he's in no mood to discuss the fact that, not too long ago, Scott didn't have time to fulfill his duties as a husband because he was too busy banging Rogue or _thinking _about banging Rogue.

She runs a hand through her mussed hair. "I don't know details, Rogue was hysterical when she brought you to the med lab."

"Try." Desperation makes his tone harsh.

"Everything was normal, then in the middle of the night Rogue began screaming. Of course we all got up to investigate, but by the time we found you she'd already teleported to Hank. She said she blacked out, and when she came to, you were on the ground, completely unconscious."

"What was wrong wit me?"

She shakes her head. "We're not completely sure yet. There was some obvious physical damage, like bruises and cuts, but the real trouble was your mind. You suffered severe mental trauma."

He can only imagine the guilt his beloved must have felt. "So she just, left?"

"She never left your side at first, but the guilt made her mind slip and when we came down to check up on you, she was gone."

His head spins from all the information, but he still does not know where she could be. "Did y'all look for her? Did y' even try?"

"Of course we did! We searched for days on end! But Phoenix is in control now, Remy, and if she doesn't want to be bothered, she won't be."

His heart thuds in his chest. All this wasted time sleeping, he should have been out there searching for her! What if he was too late? What if he'd lost Rogue for good?

"How long I have been out, Jean?"

Her face fills with sympathy, and he knows her answer will kill him. "You've been out for three weeks, Rogue's been missing for two."

The haze around his mind fades suddenly, he'd been a fool. "I have to find her," he murmurs.

He runs from the room, leaving the woman alone with her tears and regrets.

* * *

"Turn it off. _Now_." Her head lolls to the side, her eyes fill with hurt.

The image of Remy , _her _Remy, kissing and touching another woman, Jean Grey no less, vanishes from sight, and the sympathetic face of Phoenix watches her from behind the dying oak.

"I didn't want you to see that, my love."

Rogue does not answer, instead she slides to the ground and looks around at her dying mindscape, wondering when everything had changed. The once lush fields and greenery that decorated her mind-world are all dead. The bark on the trees has turned black, the grass is patchy and brown, the sky is grey all the time and lighting strikes regularly.

Her mind hurts just like her heart hurts just like her soul hurts.

"I wish you would let me help you-"

"Ya can't help me," she snaps. Her nails dig into her palms. "Yoah makin' things worse!"

Phoenix kneels next to the distraught belle, the only difference between them being the color of eyes and dress. "But I _can._" Her arms go around Rogue, she kisses the top of her head. "I can make all the pain go away, if you would just let me."

Rogue does not fight her embrace, instead she holds her back and weeps into her neck. "Ah _love _him, and ah put him in a coma-"

Fury sparks in her golden eyes, but she hides it and places another kiss on Rogue's plump lips. She could see why that human man would change his entire way of life for her. "You mustn't always take the blame, what about what he has done?"

Phoenix had a very distinct scent, and Rogue loses herself in it. It was fire and smoke, it was crushed earth and flowers, it was power and beauty- all rolled into one. It filled her mind with images of what has been and what could be. The universe is her plaything, each individual planet, moon, and sun has the same significance as a marble.

Sensing her weakening, a slow, triumphant smirk appears on Phoenix's lips and thunder rumbles in the background.

"Let me take you away from here, far away. We can soar the galaxies together, travel to places you've never even _dreamed _of!" Rogue goes even limper, Phoenix's hands travel over her breasts and send waves of pleasure washing over her. "I will love you, always. I will take care of you."

It sounded nice, so very nice. Despite her fiery attitude and infamous determination, all she's ever wanted was love. Simple, unconditional love. She wanted to be protected for awhile, to take a vacation from fighting and hiding and just _rest. _

"Let go, my love. Let me end your pain and make you happy." Her finger travels from Rogue's breasts to her stomach, the waves of ecstasy follow, until Rogue is like dough in the being's grasp.

"Ah'm just so tired of it all." Even as she says this, a yawn escapes and her eyelids grow unbearably heavy.

"Then sleep. Dream of all the adventures we'll have, all the dimensions and times we can explore."

Rogue smiles as warmth cocoons her. She thinks of Remy, she'd never forgot him, he'll wait for her. She only needs a few hours of sleep to deal with the pain, then she'll be strong again, then she'll fight for she and Remy's love.

Phoenix brushes her hair back and gazes down at the slumbering beauty lovingly. "I'll never let any of them hurt you again, I promise you that." With that, she lifts Rogue easily and carries her to the middle of the field, where a tangle of roses and branches still live.

She sets Rogue down in the cushiony center, and when she pulls her hands away, the shrubbery crackles and twists around the belle, forming a sort of protective shell.

She turns away from the scene, her stride becoming more purposeful with every step she takes. A new power begins surging through her body, and she knows she's done it. The last tie connecting Rogue to her old life is gone, she gave in. And now, Phoenix has full control over this body, nothing can hold her back anymore.

She jumps into the river with a running start, and when she returns to the real-world she's laying atop a building.

Her golden eyes scan over the city lazily, she could easily shut out all the thoughts and emotions of others that filter through her mind, but she chooses not to. She revels in the ability of knowing and seeing all, of being able to change and manipulate each individual like a pawn.

Without hesitation, she steps off the eight-story building and rockets down to Earth at a startling speed. She comes to a stop just feet from the bottom, and lowers herself to ground gently.

The streets are chock full of humans, but none of them managed to see her recent feat. She joins one of the many mobs, blending in easily. A human male can not seem to take his gaze off her, she revels in his lust before sending a telepathic attack to his mind. He stops in the middle of the sidewalk and screams, then drops to the concrete, blood pouring from his nose and ears.

She just continues on her way as those around her panic and call for help. He'd been quite the annoyance.

She notices things mortals can't. Like the sand and pebbles littering the street, the stench of death following un-expecting humans. Foolish humans. They were around for only a short time, but the drama and unnecessary complcations they created within their brief lives was of cosmic proportions. She'll enjoy feeding from this planet, from these humans.

A clothing shop catches her attention, and she frowns before venturing to look in the window. For some reason, the black dress with the red detailing makes her chest cavity ache. Nothing was physically wrong, which meant the residue of Rogue's feelings and emotions were still quite strong.

Reaching up and touching her cheek in confusion, Phoenix regards the moisture coming from her eyes in awe. Curiously, she licks her lips, she tastes salt. Tears. She'd been weeping for that fool.

She silently curses Remy Lebeau, but phases her hand through the glass and takes the dress anyway. She doesn't know what size it is, but Rogue's heart isn't listening to reason.

She ducks into an alleyway and strips off her jeans and ribbed shirt. She pulls on the dress over head, it fits like a glove and hangs just above her knees. The satiny material of the body clings to her frame, then falls away into loose, swaying ribbons of silk. And resting just beneath her breasts, was a thin line of red velvet.

She leaves her feet bare, then soars into the sky. She blocks all thoughts of red and black eyes from her mind.

* * *

_It will be the greatest battle to ever take place, making other wars seem small and insignificant. _

Her hand can barely keep up with all the images of destruction and demise that flood into her mind. Death and chaos, the two things Phoenix loved most.

At least, before she met Rogue.

With that observation, more images come and she draws two Rogues.

_One with vivid emerald eyes and matching slip, the other with hellish saffron eyes and a black slip. A bleeding, moving heart links the two of them together._

In all her wildest aspirations, such a strong bond forming between Rogue and Phoenix never entered her mind. Her goal had been for Phoenix to enter her body and cleanse the Earth, she'd never expected things to go so brilliantly.

_There won't be any structures or signs of human life around them- only golden, swaying fields of wheat and the violet hue of the night._

She assumes this means the fight will begin far away, where the mortals assumed no one would get hurt.

Didn't they understand that it wasn't worth it? That no matter how far away they traveled, Earth would still be fed upon and everyone would undoubtedly perish?

_The skies will be black from smoke, with steady, raging fountains of flame surging up every so often. _

She uses charcoals and red to create the skies of this day. In her vision, she chokes on the smog, her eyes had watered. She wonders, if by this point, she'll still be alive or not. She'd love to be there when this takes place in real-life, but if she does not feel she will make it.

_A mob of both mutants and humans come together and surround Phoenix. She'll be wearing a black dress, it will make her look even more ethereal. The dress will reveal the lily-white tops of her generous breasts, and the toned whiteness of her thighs and legs. The moon will make her pale skin appear luminous._

She isn't sure of the significance of the dress, or if it even meant anything, but she thinks not. After all, Phoenix was a worldly creature, who cared nothing for the frivolity of humans. The dress was probably worn out of sheer boredom, perhaps she'd grown curious.

_Her glowing eyes will be the same color as melted gold, the dangerous smirk across her blood red lips does not waver, even after the battle begins and the mass around her attacks all at once._

The pages of her diary fill up faster and faster, she'd never had a vision tire her so. Years ago, when Rogue still loved them and she'd had this vision for the first time, she'd fainted and hadn't woken up for days, it took that much out of her. But after years of experiencing this same thing over and over again, she can handle the immense power of knowing Earth's destiny.

She'd seen it weeks in advance that Rogue would accidentally absorb Mystique and find out the truth. She'd known Rogue would leave them for the X-men, thus absorbing Jean Grey and sealing her fate.

She wonders sometimes if things would have been different if Rogue had absorbed _her _instead. Maybe if Rogue had been able to experience the supremacy and beauty of the future first-hand, she might not have left them and embraced her fate, instead of running from it.

_The last page is colored with bright flares of orange, yellow and red- colors made to represent the final night of earth. The last explosion ends it all, everything is bathed in blinding light. Nature, cars, living things, non-living things, all will be swallowed whole by this light, no sound will be able to filter. __Phoenix will delve into the core, and she will feed off all that the world has ever been._

_She will lift her head from her meal, her wild mane will blow epically in the wind, her torn dress will flap about her thighs._

_The only thing still remaining from before the battle will be Phoenix and her twisted smirk._

Irene shudders, the book falls from her lap.

She'd like very much to hold Rogue one last time.

* * *

They return to Earth with triple the size of their original army, their armada blots out the light of the sun.

"Majestrix."

She turns to Gladiator and regards him lovingly. Sometimes, she would look at him and want to weep. He was the only one of her Imperial Guard to survive, a constant reminder of her failure as a ruler. She'd let them down in a way, but their lives will not be in vain.

"They are ready for your recording."

She nods. "Thank you, Gladiator."

He bows respectfully. In his opinion, it was his hesitation that caused his comrades their lives, and he will do anything to avenge them.

Televisions all around the world fizzle out, but then Lilandra's face appears on the screens and people stop what they're doing to watch this strange news cast.

"People of Earth, danger is upon you."

Some think it is a joke, some watch in interest, some grow angry when they cannot turn the channel or shut their television off. One thing is true: by the end of the feed, all will fear for their life.

Lilandra's speech comes to a close. "In conclusion: we are not here to hurt you, but to eradicate a very real threat that poses danger to both our worlds. Stay out of our way and this process will go smoothly."

The screen goes back to fuzz before shutting off.

Logan has never seen the serene, patient Professor _really _get angry before, but that changes today. Hands curled around the armrests of his wheelchair, his face and bald head beat red- Charles is the embodiment of rage.

"Does she realize what she's doing? She's complicated things beyond repair! Now it's only a matter of time before the government and national guard get involved, and then everything will go to ruin."

The rest of the team had congregated to his office during the lengthy 'broadcast', and stare at him helplessly now that it's over.

"What do we do?" Ororo asks simply, confident that, as usual, the Professor will be able to come up with the best answer to solve the problem.

He rests his chin on his hand, weariness taking the place of fury. "I do not know. This has gone farther than I ever imagined, and so much is at stake-"

"You're not saying what I think you're saying, are you?" Scott's hands bunch into fists, a vein in his forehead throbs.

"I'm not saying anything, Scott, just thinking aloud."

"What's to think about? Let's search for her like Remy is, let's fight for her!"

Not even Logan will come to the distressed leaders' aid.

"Scott-" Hank begins, his voice and face sympathetic. "You must think about what you're saying. Even if our morale was up for it, we are severely outnumbered against the parties that will be present. What with the tragic deaths of Bobby, Kitty, and Piotr, Emma's recent deflection back to the Hell Fire club, Remy's endless searching, and those of us who are still recovering physically and mentally from our _last _encounter with the Shi'ar, there is just no realistic way we can protect her this time." Tears fill the gentle giant's eyes, and he wipes them away with the sleeve of his lab coat. "It is unfortunate, but logical."

"Well no one's asking you to fight," he sneers. "Wolverine, you're on my side, aren't you?"

Something like shame comes over the Canadian's face, but then his jaw steels, decision made. "I thought that maybe I could let her go, but dammit, that southern spitfire has snuck in my heart, and now she's there for good."

"I couldn't agree more." All turn to regard Jean in shock. She takes her husband's hand, and for the first time in a long time, the smiles they gave each other are genuine and warm.

"I'll be prepping the Blackbird. If you're coming, be ready to go in fifteen minutes and counting." He turns to look Charles in the eye one last time, all sense of respect he'd ever had for the man tainted in some way. He leaves soon after, Jean's hand still in his.

* * *

The feed ends and the strength in her legs leaves her. She slumps in the uncomfortable, metal chair.

"So this is the great 'Beginning of the End' you and Irene always spoke of." The regal-looking man smiles, making the skin around his vibrant blue eyes crinkle. "How extraordinary."

Her mouth is dry, it's hard to get the words out. "I never thought this would really happen. Irene assured me that she was sure this time, that this vision came too frequently to be nothing." Her yellow eyes close. "I never truly believed her."

He kneels next to her, she can smell his attractive cologne and the kind of aftershave he used. His thick, white hair tickles her cheek.

"Are you going to try and stop this?"

She glares at him. "If I could I would. Don't throw my helplessness in my face!"

He puts his hands up in a universal sign of surrender, good humor still in tact. "I'm not throwing anything at you, darling, simply inquiring."

She sighs, vehemence gone. "Are you…frightened?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Not in the least. Of course, I had many things I'd wanted to accomplish before I finally keeled over, but I've had a long, full life. And like you said: why try and stop something that can't be stopped? At least it's a mutant destroying all of us, instead of a few homo sapiens."

She rolls her eyes, but he has eased some of her worry and she's able to stand again. "You're no help to me."

He chuckles and shrugs.

Her gaze travels to the window. The rain is harsh and unforgiving. "I-I have to be there, Erik. Even if I can't help her- if this is really the end…"

He frowns, he'd never seen his partner and lover so…_emotional._

"You truly love her, don't you, Raven?"

"What has love ever done for anybody?" He can hear the thickness in her throat.

"My darling," he murmurs, and takes her into his arms.

* * *

He removes his gloves and trench coat and lets them fall to the ground. His legs throb and he lets himself collapse to the ground. He leans his back against the side of an abandoned farm house and closes his eyes. The chilly night air blows over him and cools his heated skin, he lets his eyes close.

How long has it been since he's rested like this? Three days he's spent scouring the entirety of New York. He'd barely eaten anything, hell, he was hardly able to finish his shower before passing out.

The swaying wheat contrasted beautifully against the night sky and full moon, he hears birds settling in for the night and frogs hopping about in the nearby pond.

He wonders how he got here, to this old farmland in the middle of nowhere. He'd been driving down the road not far from here when he'd seen the swaying fields and something just _pulled _him here. He couldn't resist the mysterious tranquility, the peace.

He looks up at the large, tragic moon, and thinks about dying. He'd like to die someplace like this, someplace where he wouldn't be disturbed, where he could finally just sleep; forever.

He falls in the place between slumber and awakening. In this dark, surreal place is the truth. He knows that he never deserved Rogue, that he was pretending that things would work out when they never would.

He knows he can not save Rogue, and that he has lost her.

His eyes snap open, instantly alert. He turns to find the cause of the frigid shivers going up and down his spine.

All of the hoping, the searching, and here she is, sitting in this barn like she'd been waiting for him here the entire time.

She smiles prettily, the breeze tangles her curls. "Hello, Remy."

__

If you were here I'd never have a fear. So go on live your life, but I miss you more than I did yesterday. You're so far away, so c'mon show me how. 'Cause I mean this more than words can ever say. Some might say we are made from the sharpest things you say, we are young and we don't care. Your dreams and your hopeless hair. We never wanted it to be this way, for all our lives. Do you care at all? ~Give 'em Hell, Kid- My Chemical Romance

Still working on the review responses, I didn't want to make you guys wait, I'll get 'em posted soon!


	15. Scorched

Scorched

_The reign of fire, Earth Scorched to bits. The sky bleeds napalm, mass graves, melted into this oven of bliss. A furnace of human garbage, as the Earth, your Earth, your Earth turns black... the Earth turns black. Digging into the graves, survival of the sick. The Earth turns black. Enraged and encaged by this bio mechanical foe. ~Scorched- In-Quest _

**July 2007.**

He grinned his best grin and took her gloved hand in his, much to her reluctance. Her hair was still slightly damp from the shower she'd taken after the DR session, and he found himself nearly hypnotized by the scent of her curls.

Meeting her for the first time was…_different. _It wasn't one of those cliché 'movie' moments- his breathing rate didn't soar, his heart didn't speed up, the world didn't slow down around him. Her luscious curves and angelic face, while quite distracting indeed, did not make him want to kneel before her and confess his love. It was just different.

Seeing her for the first time was almost the same as seeing any other gorgeous woman for the first time. Almost, but not quite. Because even as he did his usual once-over, even as he spewed his cheesy, half-baked one liners (which she did not take kindly to) he could tell that the woman before him was not going to be his very easily.

It wasn't until she looked up from her thick novel and pierced him with her shattering eyes that he felt something other than sexual interest. Questions started running amuck in his mind. How old was she? Why was she filled with so much pain? And most importantly: How had he never met her before then? In the weeks he'd been at the mansion, why hadn't they been introduced?

He'd heard the occasional gossip of course. He knew all about her frosty disposition and life siphoning skin, he'd caught glimpses of her by the lake or in the kitchen, but it wasn't until today in the Danger Room, that he finally decided to pursue her.

But standing before her, being in her personal space, it wasn't the same as any other woman. He hadn't _truly _realized, hadn't comprehended, just how utterly perfect she was. And he knew, albeit subconsciously, that her allure wasn't caused simply because of her body, or the challenge she represented, or even because her voice was like smoke and rustling leaves and honey and made him shiver every time she spoke, it was because _something, _some small, nagging emotion was buzzing at the back of his mind.

But he couldn't place the feeling, didn't _want _to place it. It was too big, too soon, too irrational. Staring into her eyes was like staring into pain and ecstasy, damnation and salvation, all at the same time. There were sparkles in the depths of her green orbs, like a magical dream he'd had and hadn't remembered until then. Somehow, her eyes were familiar.

He'd stopped pretending to make small talk some time before, and she'd stopped trying to wriggle her hand free from his grasp. Instead, the mystery feeling wrapped around the two of them and for a moment, all was quiet.

He couldn't help but smile, because he wasn't crazy, it wasn't just his heart that sensed there was something _more _between them, she sensed it, too.

"It was a pleasure meetin' ya, Remy." She slid her hand gently from his, frowning slightly at the sudden lack of warmth.

"De pleasure was all mine, chere," he whispered just as quietly as she had.

The southerners separated in a daze, Rogue turned to hide her flushed cheeks and retreated swiftly away.

But she couldn't help but sneak a quick glance behind her, and as she smiled a little smile, it hit Remy. He realized what it was about her that made him so flustered. It was because she felt safe, and he hadn't felt safe since Tante had plucked him off the streets and raised him like her own. It was almost as if he belonged with her, like they'd known each other in another, happier life.

She felt like home.

_The initial conflict seems so trivial. Now out of hope, out of hand, population depletes. Enraged by numerous diseases, is nuclear light the sun they see… The extinction, the plague of humanity... The extinction, the plague of humanity... ~Scorched- In-Quest_

She felt like home.

Despite her glowing yellow eyes and chilling smirk, he still feels it- that undeniable pull that had always been between them, from the very first moment he ever set eyes on her.

But along with this familiarity comes horrible desperation on his part, because he knows. Behind his cocky swagger and constant jokes, Remy is quite the realist, and a realist would not pretend everything was going to end happily, or even decently, a realist would not try ignoring the truth- the truth being that even before Phoenix, things between himself and Rogue wouldn't, _couldn't _last. He loved her too much, too completely, sometimes he needed her so much he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He doesn't deserve her, never has, he knows she was never his to have, and that things were soon coming to a close.

One of them was going to die this night, of this he is certain, and he preys with all that he is that _he'll _be the one getting the bad end of that deal.

Living without her wasn't living at all.

"You're thoughts are racing," She smiles, the supernatural wind that is her power blows her curls over her smooth shoulders and across her creamy breasts. "are you frightened?"

"Never been more terrified in my life," he murmurs, and it's true, no sarcasm taints his words.

Her expression changes suddenly, warming up in some places and softening in others. If at all possible, sincere pity fills her eyes.

"It didn't _have _to be this way!" Even though she whispers, the power of her voice echoes around him and the field. "You could have lived forever, could have had unimaginable power! And you threw it all away, for what? For some misguided sense of honor?"

He only grins, and she frowns, taken aback. "Y' seem to have misunderstood, p'tite."

Her eyes narrow, her hand goes to her hip in the perfect stance of tried patience. It reminds him so much of Rogue that he feels physical pain at the back of his head.

"Oh? I've misunderstood? Well, please enlighten me."

"Gladly. Y' see, when I said I've never been more terrified in my life, I meant it. But I ain't scared of _you_, p'tite, an' I ain't afraid of dyin'. Lord knows, I shoulda been dead years ago, I've been on de edge my whole life. Non, it ain't dyin' dats makin' my stomach clench. It's her, it's Rogue. It's de thought of me failin' her, of lettin' y' win. It's de thought of y' killin' all she loves, all she knows. _Dats _what terrifies me, p'tite."

"Brave words coming from a dead man," she snarls, and the tips of her hair begin to rise and become flame. A golden glow envelopes her body. "None of you, not Jean Grey, or your foolish mentor, or even The Empress herself fully understands just how powerful I am. I am Phoenix- goddess of fire and chaos, warmth and peace. The Creator, The Destroyer. I can give life, I can take life!" She floats closer, and her glowing arm raises to cup his cheek in her hand. He can feel her incredible strength buzzing around him, like static.

"I, the guardian of the M'kraan Crystal, I, who am older than your Sun, I, who was brought into existence before multi-cellular life even existed!"

She spins from him, her lip trembles with poorly concealed rage. "It is I who watched the evolution of your species. It is I who knows your kind for what it really is: a horde of unintelligent, crude, barbaric meat sacks, unfit to live in this beautiful universe! Earth is, by far, the most primitive of all the planets in the galaxy. You don't deserve the precious gift of life."

He ventures a step closer, and lets the tips of his fingers touch the small of her back. "Who are y' to decide," he asks softly. "What would y' accomplish by destroying us? Is it de energy y' want? To feed off of our life forces, our planet?"

Her jaw tightens. "My intentions are not selfish, and you are impudent to suggest such. I wish only to cleanse the universe, and, someday, perhaps a millennia or so, I will rebuild this planet, I will create more humans, different humans. I myself will teach them the right way to live. No war, no famine, no drought, no pestilence, can you imagine? A race with few flaws, like that of the Shi'ar. Perhaps that is why I served them for so many thousands of years, because their race was so stable, so modern…yes, yes I think that's why. I will make the humans more like the Shi'ar, still human, but improved. Human beings 2.0!" She'd heard that phrase off of the 'television', and she laughs at her own joke.

He stands in front of her, his face remains somber. "Mais what if dose t'ings can't be taught? True, de Shi'ar are probably more advanced in some ways, but not completely! We have free will, and democracy, we can _choose. _An Emperor or Empress rules over dem, dey decide for everyone. An' what about D'ken? Was he so stable? If _humans _hadn't worked together, Jean wouldn't have been able to seal de crystal's power."

He wasn't good, he didn't deserve life, but he wasn't fighting for himself. He was fighting for the Professor, for Tante, for the X-men, for all the people who'd ever showed him an ounce of kindness. And for Rogue, his _belle ange, _the love of his life. He was fighting for her more passionately than he'd fought for anything in his twenty-seven years of living.

"Dere is good an' bad in all humans, p'tite. Sometimes deres more good; like Rogue, sometimes deres more bad, like…like…"

"Like you?" She smirks when he winces.

"Oui, like me. Mais I'm willin' to give my life for dis planet, dat has to count for somethin', right? Don' judge us all based on what you've seen from a few, try to see de good!"

"The good?" The light around her increases, flames lick out from around her. "Was there 'good' when your kind was enslaving each other? Or what about the massacres that were just for sport, because they _could? _And the wars, so many wars, all those lives…lost. For what? Wealth? Power? Land? There are threats now of nuclear warfare, threats of deadly, airborne viruses being unleashed on the general population! You humans live on this planet with no respect, as if you're _entitled _to reside here! You and I both know that not everyone has good in them. Look around! Think of the harshness of your life! Most humans are evil, selfish creatures!"

"Y' wrong, Phoenix! No one can be completely bad!"

She raises a delicate eyebrow. "Would you be able to look Rogue's bastard father in the eye and see good?"

His mouth flops open, he gets hot.

"Just as I thought. You feel nothing but hatred, disgust. You want revenge, you regret that he's dead, but only because you want so badly to kill him yourself!" Her hand goes to her forehead, she sways precariously. She recovers within seconds, her calm and cool demeanor back in place. "I can feel it all, you know. All thoughts, all emotions, from all times and all dimensions. Jean Grey bonded with me, and nearly lost all semblance of sanity. But Rogue, precious Rogue, she bonded with me and she waded through the fiery seas of my mind and survived, she did not lose her mind, she _understood. _For once, I could share the burden of an all-knowing mind with someone else. I no longer had to explore the universe in solitude, I could…_love._ And of all the human emotions, that is by far the most difficult to imitate." She pauses as if startled, and swipes away the moisture beneath her eyes with an expression akin to disgust.

"For some reason I'll never understand, this body still aches for you. She sees something redeemable in you. To her, you're still savable. She loves you unconditionally."

He weeps then, but does not try hiding the fact. Those words…God, it's what he's always wanted to hear! Rogue loved him for _him. _Not because she felt obligated, or felt sorry for him, but because to her, he was still something, he could still be loved. If only…if only he'd been able to hear Rogue herself say it, her honeyed voice, lovely and warm.

Thinking of her fills him with a second burst of strength, and he's more determined than ever to hear her once more, see those blazing emerald eyes again- he drags the back of his arm roughly across his eyes, and takes one step towards her; two. "Do de right t'ing," he swallows and pleads with all his heart. He kneels before her, knowing that this was his last chance to stop this and still ensure everyone's life. If this didn't work…well, they didn't call him a human bomb for nothing.

"I beg y', soar de skies, devour stars, protect de crystal, mais give me ma cherie. Leave us _all _alone, let humans be humans, let us make our mistakes and commit our evil, let us learn from dose mistakes and show kindness upon others. Let our race evolve naturally! Please, show us mercy!"

The smile she gives him wavers, more tears fill her eyes. "This body wants nothing more than to grant your wishes, to wipe away your tears, to kiss you even!" She shakes her head, pressing her lips into a line. "But I can see inside your mind and inside the minds of others, and I know you, Remy LeBeau, I know you better than you could ever hope to know yourself! You have what they call a 'silver tongue', and you've gotten yourself out of some pretty impossible situations with that charm of yours."

She steps from the ground and levitates higher in the air. The fire around her increases and becomes the shape of the Phoenix, she lets out a fierce cry heard throughout the entire planet, and even beyond. Her pupils dilate, overtaking the irises and even the sclera. The entirety of her eyes become soulless, black pools. His stomach goes cold.

"If y' can really read my mind," he shouts over the wind, "den y' know I'm telling' de truth-"

"**Pathetic human, you will not fool me! I am PHOENIX!" **With a flick of her wrist, Remy is swept in the air, only to land on his stomach some two miles away. He feels sick, paralyzed, he can't move. Murky, fleeting pictures of Rogue fill his vision.

"**This body**!" She shudders, and lets her eyes flutter closed. "**This body is like none I've ever inhabited! So many powers…and so much energy!**" Her fingers curl into fists and she raises them to the sky, light shoots from them and brightens the night, for an instant its like the morning sunrise.

Trees blow over and grass billows harshly around his prone form. He's afraid he'll be blown away, but she stands solid in the middle of it all, a dark figure in the sea of golden light, her face turned towards the sky.

She looks to the east, sensing the Blackbird, and laughs almost giddily. "**Ah, the X-men have arrived. Now, the battle for Earth shall **_**truly **_**begin!"**

_Fifth Avenue, Hellfire Club._

"Perhaps I did not hear you correctly: you want us to risk our lives to try and destroy a being that can't be hurt physically, or controlled mentally, and could kill a human in a matter of seconds? Am I correct? Or did I hear you wrong-"

Emma Frost slams her fist into the mahogany table, her sunken cheeks and dead eyes tell the story of the pain she'd been through. Life without Bobby had made her hard and brittle, and she threw herself into work and the Hellfire Club, because she had nothing else. Sometimes, when she exhausted herself with paperwork and drank five shots too many, she could rest, finally. But even then, her sleep was riddled with nightmares of his azure eyes going grey, of his hand slipping from hers…she doesn't hate the X-men because they couldn't help Bobby, she hates them for letting his murderer go unpunished.

"You always were a cheeky bastard, Wyngarde. Shut your damn mouth."

Of course, the small, still-sane part of Emma's brain keeps telling her that Rogue is not _really _to blame, and that Phoenix was too powerful for any human being to control. She'd had contact with the Phoenix, she knew how impossible it was to fight that fire and brimstone that was its mind.

But her heart, her torn, broken, frozen heart did not want to listen to fact or reason, it did not want to differentiate between Phoenix, her enemy, and Rogue, her friend. Her heart wants revenge for Bobby's untimely death, and, unfortunately, Rogue had to die for Phoenix to die.

"On the contrary, White Queen, Jason is simply voicing the fears that all of us have." His chins move as he chuckles, "After all, what would we gain if we did indeed bring about this creature's destruction?"

"You are a greedy, stinking pig, Leland!"

"How dare you!" Leland rises swiftly from his chair, quite surprising for a man of his size, his face goes red. "You have forgotten yourself, Frost-"

"I think it is _you _who has forgotten yourself, Harry."

All eyes turn to watch the entrance of Sebastian Shaw. He smirks at the inhabitants at the round table, and takes his own place at the tallest chair. He makes a dashing figure in his velvet vest and blue dress coat. His blazing dark eyes sparkle mischievously, his raven hair curls handsomely about his temples.

"Ms. Frost is the White Queen, and you are nothing more than a bishop, or had you forgotten?" He throws his feet on the table and laughs heartily. "And you really are a greedy bastard, you know. If your tiny, pea-brain hadn't been thinking of what _you _could gain out of this, you would have figured out that unless we defeat this…Phoenix, then we are all doomed, and nothing- not your wealth, or your mother, or even your layers of fat can save you."

Emma smirks at the humiliated Black Bishop, who simply falls back into his chair.

Selene, the Black Queen, promptly throws her head back and laughs at the red-faced man, her black bodice tightening distractingly across her breasts. "Shaw, my darling, you have such a way with words." The humor leaves her face almost instantly, she was never one to smile for too long, and she turns her full attention back on her counterpart.

"And now, Emma, dear, please finish telling us what we have to do to defeat this thing."

"I am in agreement with my queen," Shaw says. "And do not forget, all of our wealth is at your disposal.

For the first time in a long time, Emma really and truly smiles.

She raises her hand to eliminate the X-men in one, fell swoop, but a flare of fuchsia explodes in her face and before she can recover, two heat-seeking missiles have slammed into her and she's plummeting to the ground.

Gritting her teeth, she uses her stolen telekinesis to lift the missiles high into the atmosphere. She sits, choking on smoke, and rubs dirt and burning fragments from her shredded dress. It revealed even more of her pale, smooth skin, she wonders how man-made cloth had managed to stay together after _that. _

She soars into the sky as if nothing happened, heading straight for the Blackbird. "**Nice shot, X-men. Too bad the Phoenix is inde-"**

Two beams of concentrated, red energy hit her in the back, and she swirls to find the X-men on the ground, far, far below. Tanks and foot soldiers litter the space around them, SHIELD. She frowns in confusion, and figures out their plan too late. The full force of the Blackbird pummels into her body and she hears the '_craaack_' that is her spine snapping in half.

She falls towards the earth in a broken heap, but before she can even hit the ground helicopters appear and plow bullets into every part of her body, and finally, she lands in the prairie, and remains still.

"Thanks for the distraction, Remy." Cyclops offers Gambit his hand, the cajun ignores it and stands on his own. He shuffles along at first, but then his legs gain strength and he's running through the tall grasses to where Rogue had landed.

He slides across the dirt into the bottom of the crater. "Chere…oh chere, non…" He falls to his knees beside her, his hands hesitate just above her shoulders. He wanted to hold her so very badly, but there wasn't a part of her that wasn't broken. Her neck was bent at a strange angle, the bones were showing through parts of her arms, and all the bullet wounds were bleeding. Her eyes were still black, he'd wanted to see the emerald one more time…

He slams his fists into the dirt over and over again. It couldn't be…she couldn't be…they couldn't have…

"Remy!" He hears Jean cry. "Remy get out of there now! She's not dead!"

Before he can react Wolverine grabs him by the collar and scoops him out of the hole, away from his chere, away from the thing he wanted most. "Put me down, Logan! I-"

Whatever he was about to say jams at the back of his throat and dies there. Because floating above the crater, encased in a red hue, is the Phoenix. As they watch in horror, she twists her neck back to rights and pops her spine back in place. Her stolen healing ability restores her missing flesh and shoves the bullets to the ground, in a matter of seconds she is completely restored.

Smirking in mid air, she looks herself over and shakes her head, as if scolding herself. "**I had forgotten that the bodies of humans have limitations that I myself am not accustomed to." **She rises higher in the sky.

Nicolas Fury shouts into his com-link, and the pilots release another shower of bullets in the Phoenix's direction. "That's it, boys! Don't let the bitch recover!"

"**Idiots! Do you think you can pull the same trick twice?" **She curls her fingers and the helicopters crumple into balls, she throws her arms forward and the two spheres of metal go hurdling towards the soldiers and X-men on the ground.

Remy ducks, and Cyclops throws his arms over Jean. Seconds later, they peek open their eyes, knowing they should have died instantly from the impact. They stand, and gasp as they see the helicopters hovering mere feet away.

Faster than any of them can blink, the balls change their course and head straight back towards Phoenix. She manages to break one in half, but the other hits her with full force and she flings it away with a blood curdling screech of frustration.

She looks to her side in murderous rage, and there hovers Magneto, smiling proudly in his crimson attire and helmet.

Red beams shoot from her eyes, but Magneto throws up a shield of electricity, and the beams reflect harmlessly off.

She's beside herself with anger, her body shakes from rage. The radiance surrounding her grows hotter and more brilliant. Fire crackles and illuminates the sky in red and orange. Even the X-men, located far away on the ground, are forced to back away and throw their arms over their faces to shield themselves from the blistering heat of her power.

Gritting her teeth, she brings down one arm, and out of nowhere, a wing made entirely of fire knocks Magneto out of the sky.

"**I tire of playing games!" **She lowers herself to the fallen master of magnetism, and lifts him by the neck. **"You will pay dearly for what you have done, mortal." **And with a face of stone, Phoenix proceeds to choke the life out of Magneto.

"Rogue!" She hears the Professor's voice, and then feels the cooling, gentle presence that is his mind. _Rogue. I can still sense you in here. Help me gain access in her mind, help us, Rogue!_

She does not let go of Magneto's neck, and her mental shields remain air tight. She chuckles, the dark sound fills the prairie. **"Tire yourself all you want to, Charles Xavier. You know as well as I do that your puny mind is no match against the likes of Phoenix!"**

The words barely leave her mouth before another probe attempts to break into her mind, and she grabs her head with both hands, dropping Magneto carelessly on the ground.

She spins around, prepared to kill the Professor and Jean Grey, but she stops cold, because there, in front of them, smiling at her like he used to…

"**No, no you're dead…**They told me ya died, they said…**Trickery! Foul trickery!" **She zooms towards the man at full speed, but he only smiles and opens his arms.

"Marie, my beautiful Marie, such a good girl."

A third, white beam projects itself at the belle's head, Emma Frost had arrived.

Phoenix falls to her knees as they invade her mind. She screams, and the light and fire around her fades away as quickly as it had come about. Her tear filled eyes open and they're emerald, gorgeous emerald.

"This isn't real, ah won't believe it!" She wraps her arms around herself as the man saunters closer. Brown hair, cruel black eyes. An average build, but those hands, those hands had always been so big…

The presence of yet another mind fills her head, and her shields shatter. She screams at the pain of it, the ripping and tearing of her mindscape-

Tears fill the man's eyes, and Mystique returns to her natural form. "I'm so sorry, my daughter." If only she'd understood just how dangerous her daughter would become, she hadn't known…

"Stop it!" Remy breaks from Logan's hold and makes his way to the writhing woman. "You're killin' her!"

But it goes on. Gambit screams, he even tries carrying her body further away, but they don't stop. Didn't they hear him screaming? Didn't they hear her sobbing?

Eventually, Rogue stops moving, and her head falls to Remy's shoulder. "Rogue? Answer Remy, chere." He shakes her softly, but there is no response.

Minutes later, Xavier, Jean, Emma, and Betsy nearly collapse from exhaustion. The Professor uses his last bit of energy to contact Lilandra in the skies above, and then he slumps in his hover chair.

Remy hears the massive ship before he sees it, and when it finally appears out of the clouds, his heart drops and he lifts Rogue, and he runs. Tears stream down his face and he ignores the cries and shouts of his teammates. They'd promised…they'd promised to try and help Rogue! But they'd only wanted to weaken her, so that Lilandra and the Shi'ar could finish her off. He isn't selfless or noble like Scott, he can't let the woman he loves die for the greater good.

He kisses her forehead. "I won' let dem get y', chere. I'll never lose y'."

She groans, and her green eyes open to look up at him. He can't breathe, can't speak…he bows his head over her, his tears mingle with her tears.

"I knew y' were strong enough! I knew it didn't have to end like dat!"

She doesn't answer him, but simply lets her eyes wander over every shadow and angle on his face, as if memorizing every detail.

"Kiss me," she murmurs.

And with a watery smile, he complies with her wish, and kisses her with every ounce of love and passion he posses.

"All ah ever wanted," she breathes against his lips some minutes later, "is love. To love, and to be loved. To know what it was like, to be happy." She smiles, and cups his face in her hands. "Ya gave me that, Remy. And for that, ah can never thank ya enough."

The smile falls from his lips and he holds her tighter. "It almost…sounds like y' sayin' goodbye," he whispers.

She answers him with a final, soul searing kiss, and something dark and painful begins blooming in his stomach.

Sure enough, he peers into the night above and the Shi'ar aircraft appears above them.

He looks down at her, hurt and betrayal apparent in his glowing eyes. "Chere, don' do dis. We can help y', if we can do it dis time-"

"Ah'm holdin' her back with every bit of strength ah've ever had. If it wasn't for the Professor and the others, ah wouldn't have even been able to break free of the spell she put over me." Her lip trembles, and she buries her face in his sweaty neck. She breathes in his scent, one last time, one last time…"Remy ah don't _wanna _live like this forever! Ah don't wanna exhaust myself tryin' to keep her at bay. Ah don't wanna have to worry about wakin' up in space, surrounded by broken pieces of Earth…" She clutches the lapel of his coat , going pale. "Ah, ah can't fight her anymore! Remy, Remy help me!"

Her watery, pain-filled eyes look up into his, and his heart breaks a million times. "Ah know it's cowardly…but the blast…ah don't wanna go like that, Remy."

Right before his eyes, her irises begin filling with gold and she screams her last wish.

"Remy, kill me!"

For a moment he can hear everything, see everything, feel everything in detail. The wind blowing harshly around them, the cries of the X-men, Lilandra's ship looming closer above them. He can see the blue shield that appears around him. He wonders distantly who put it there. Jean? Rogue? He can feel the softness of her skin, the bounce of her curls as they rest against his face. He feels his lips come down to mingle with hers. All his love and devotion, all his need and passion, all the hurt he'd ever caused her, it all builds and forms into one last testament. It flows from his heart and leaves from his lips. It enters her, flows down her throat, and stops, caressing her lungs. She begins squirming, she cries into his mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut and keeps his hold on her, and, soon, the charge he formed implodes, destroying her lungs in the process. She'd never…_never_ asked for more than what he gave. Even though she'd known she deserved better, even though she'd known there were hundreds of men out there who wanted to love her and worship her like the princess she was, she stayed with him. She loved him when no one else would, when he'd gone so long in the dark he'd convinced himself he couldn't love anyone, couldn't _be _loved by anyone.

And now, even though his heart shudders in pain and his head screams for him to stop, he'll do something selfless, he'll end her pain. Even if he destroys his sanity in the process.

Her chest jerks once, twice, then goes still. Blood rushes up to fill her mouth and spill from her lips, but he pays no mind and keeps his mouth attached to hers.

When he ends the kiss, her green eyes are clear and open, watching him intently. He wipes the blood from her chin, screams and sobs grow rampant within him.

Something like peace envelopes the belle, he thinks she smiles at him. _Thank you, _he hears softly in his mind. And then her eyelids flutter closed, like the wings of a butterfly. And as the brilliant light of day explodes in the sky, the light of _his _life fades away quickly and quietly.

He looks to the sky, and finally, the Shi'ar beam of pure, white energy pierces them from the sky. He wills away the shield around him, he aches to die with her, he knows he can't make it in this life…but his wish is ignored, and the body of his beloved is incinerated in his arms.

When it's over, all that remains in his grasp is dust. And eventually, the wind blows that away, too.

He's alone.

_The extinction, the plague, is humanity. Another raid, again the Earth trembles, the reign of fire has no end. Finding shelter beneath this crust of decay, forsaken by all hope. Infesting swarm of frail human beings, alternated by their grief. Where is your God now, as the sky, bleeds... Reign of fire...The Earth black. ~Scorched- In-Quest_

* * *

**So like a complete and utter dork, I forgot to post on my profile that I would be taking a break from fanfiction during the summer. I'm sorry for making you guys wait so long...  
On to the long-awaited reviews:**

**Alpinewood: **Remy and Rogue's love is indeed real, and it's no wonder he still compared her to Storm throughout their marriage. It's a sad fact, but Storm knew what she was getting into when she married him so...Thank you for the compliments, they keep me going! I'm glad Belladonna putting a curse on remy came as a surprise to you, you know how I love surprising you guys...'What a heated sex-scene...too bad Rogue wasn't the one Remy was seducing!'-I know right! I was getting all pissed off and jealous during this scene, and I was the one writing it!

**A: **Aw. Thanks sweetie :)

**Cassie: **Your drug, huh? Well don't get too addicted, it'll be coming to an end soon :( As for TIAD, I'm unhappy with the way it's turning out, and i've decided to start all over again. Laceylou76 will be beta-ing, so make sure you go and check it out!

**Payla: **You always make my head swell with your sweet comments. Thank you :)

**SevenIsmyLuckyNumber: **Tante Mattie did indeed give her life for Remy. She loves that boy so much...maybe because she never had any children of her own? It made me kinda sad to write her death, but at least remy was saved.

**Airo25: **I'll make it better! Promise! But bear with me, not everyone can have a happy ending...:(

**Crazyrightnow: **Thank you! and if you're looking for the songs, playlist/./com is a great place to look ;)

**PriestessKikyou: **Thank you for all your lovely reviews.

**Randirogue: **First, I want to tell you how happy I am for you. You really do sound content with living out your dream, and trust me, I envy you. I wish I had the dedication and focus it takes to stay on task while working at home...I know I'd want to read fanfiction all day, too! Glad you're back in the fanfic world, thanks for the review!

**Ruroca: **Yes, the wedding has finally happened, and we saw how remy was feeling on the day. Instead of being happy and ready, he was sad and wished rogue was the one he was marrying. Which is sad for Storm, but at the same time, it's endearing to see how much remy still loves his chere...I understand what you mean by Storm being selfish, marrying Remy when he was so unstale was probably not a good idea, but at the same time, she might have saved his life. Phoenix is definately a total bitch...but she'll get hers ;)

**ButterflyRogue: **Don't fret about not reviwing, I know what it's like to get caught up in life, sometimes there's no time to read AND review. To answer your question for chapter 13- as you've probably figured out by now, Rogue didn't die. She's dead this chapter of course, but then she managed to survive. I know what you mean, killing off Kitty, bobby, and piotr was hard for me, too. They're all such sweet, loveable characters! I hated doing that, but there had to be casualties, and everyone else needed to stay along to move along the plot...haha I would never kill of Wolverine! No matter what! Phoenix is definately messing with people's emotions and ruining Rogue's life, but I'll make sure she gets some payback. Thank you so much for your in-depth, dedicated review :D

**laceylou: **hello, darling! To answer your question about Belladonna and the curse, Tante mattie is the one who gives her life so remy can be free of the dark magic. It was a sad scene to write, but it had to be done :( You're right about the wedding, a groom should want to get married, and he certainly shouldn't be pining for some other woman! Poor remy...Poor Storm. I'm glad you noticed Remy's detachment, he was definately not in control of his emotions, and poor Rogue had to see what Phoenix caused. So sad! haha you're not the only one getting fed up with Phoenix, she ruins everything! See you soon darling!

**Thanks for reading and reviewing, see ya'll next time ;)**


	16. Soul On Fire

Soul On Fire

_There's a flame that leads our souls astray, no one's safe from its tender touch of pain. And every day it's looking for new slaves to celebrate the beauty of the grave. We are like the living dead, sacrificing all we have for a frozen heart and a Soul On Fire. We are like the living dead, craving for deliverance. With a frozen heart and a Soul On Fire. And again we're falling for disgrace, and hate will shelter us from the rain. We are enslaved by the sacred heart of shame and gently raped by the light of day. ~Soul On Fire- HIM_

**New York, 2034.**

It's only a mere hour until his son's graduation dinner begins, and Ororo was running around the house in an absolute frenzy. He said jokingly that she should calm down before it started raining and the dinner had to be cancelled. She'd only glared at him, obviously not appreciating his humor.

He finishes buttoning his jacket, then wraps his tie around his neck and knots it expertly. After he retrieves his black dress shoes from the closet and finishes dressing, he spurts some cologne on his wrists and slicks his hair back with gel. He yawns, and silently reprimands himself. Tonight is his boy's special night, he shouldn't be sleepy! He should be wired, energized, he shouldn't be able to stand still!

But even as he thinks these things, his eyelids become heavy and his shoulders begin to droop. What the hell is wrong with him? It felt as if he'd been drugged…and he's so hot, was the air conditioning acting up again?

He turns the facet to cold and splashes water on his face. As he reaches to grab a towel, he catches his reflection in the mirror. With a tilt of his head, he contemplates his own reflection. It's been so long since he's truly looked at himself, that it gives him quite the shock. He recognizes himself, of course he does, but his eyes- had they always been so lifeless? What happened to the burning crimson of his pupils? They were so dim, so flat.

His hair was still full and shiny, and mostly auburn, with only random streaks of grey spread throughout. Deep frown lines mar his forehead, and crows feet flag the outsides of both of his eyes. Still, he's an attractive older man, sought out by women half his age. But he knows just how revolting and putrid his insides are, sometimes he wishes he could turn himself inside out, so others could see what he has to see every day.

The slight exhaustion he's felt all day bears down on him suddenly and intensely, and he leans heavily on the sink to keep himself upright. He takes deep breaths and shakes his head, trying desperately to stop his vision from clouding over.

"Mon dieu…" He slips off his jacket and loosens his tie, leaving them both in a careless heap on the floor. The heat is stifling, the drowsiness is overwhelming.

Somehow, he manages to stagger into the bedroom, and once there, he collapses on the bed with a sigh of relief. Seconds after closing his eyes, he sinks into a deep sleep, only to awaken minutes later by a strange burning on his face. He opens his eyes, and finds himself staring into the center of a glowing sphere.

He shoots up, and the little ball morphs into the shape of a butterfly- with wings made of flame. The creature lands on the arch of his ear, but it does not harm him. Instead, it nuzzles him softly and tugs on a lock of his hair.

Remy does not rub his eyes, he does not pinch himself, because his gut is telling him that this is not a dream, and if there was anything he's learned from all he's lost, it is to always trust his instincts. And so he follows the fluttering creature out of the bedroom and down the staircase. A mixture of hope, adrenaline, and joy runs rampant through his veins. Because if this is real…if this is truly happening…

"Remy?"

His head snaps guiltily to his wife, and the butterfly vanishes into thin air. His stomach freezes over, but before he loses complete hope he feels a warm tingling on the back of his neck, and he knows his little friend is still with him.

Her gaze sweeps over him, and stops at his eyes. "Is there something wrong? You look ill-"

"Never been better in my life." He tries backing away from her, but she steps forward.

"Then why haven't you finished dressing? You _do _know what time it is, don't you?"

He swallows with some difficulty, it's as if sand had been caked on the inside of his throat. "Somethin' came up…I just need to check it out real quick-"

"_What?" _She'd pulled her creamy hair away from her face, and the navy color of her dress makes the color of her eyes even more fierce. "The dinner is in _forty-five _minutes, guests will be arriving soon! What could possibly be more important than you're son's graduation party?"

She was always doing that, always judging him, always lecturing him…most of the time, she was more like a mother than an equal.

But he supposes in the state he'd been in when she found him, a mother was exactly what he'd needed. He just wishes she could get out of the habit.

"I'm not gonna miss it," impatience makes his timbre coarse. "I won' be gone for long, d'accord?" He grabs his car keys from the table and winks at her before rushing through the back door.

Ororo clutches her chest and sinks to the wooden floor.

She hasn't seen Remy's eyes glow that way since before Rogue died.

* * *

His companion had stopped guiding him some time ago, and instead rests on his shoulder, kissing his cheek every so often. However, Remy's instincts take over once again, and he knows where to go. In fact, his heart is thumping so wildly and his hands sweat so badly as he zooms down the highway, that Remy has no doubt whatsoever about the direction he takes. This is fate, and fate just…happens.

He hasn't been to the mansion since Xavier passed away, nearly fourteen years ago. A long time in any case, but Remy has not forgotten the route. He's done it a million times before, the way is branded on his brain.

He enters Westchester, then, some time later, follows the road into Salem Center, turning left onto Graymalkin Lane. And there it was- 1407. It loomed so high, it seemed as if it touched the clouds. Memories hit him like tiny bullets.

He and Logan used to spar in those woods, Bobby Drake had tried beating him day after day on the basketball court, he'd kissed Rogue for the first time beneath the cherry blossom tree by the gazebo, and had woken up in the med-lab a week later- a devilish grin on his face, he'd found rare calm on the roof, he'd had some of the best times in the kitchen with Kitty.

Storm had never wanted to venture too far from home, so they'd moved into a nicely sized house twenty minutes away. She and the kids visited often, he did not. It was so close…yet still so far away. He hadn't been ready to come back here until today. He hadn't wanted to face this place, hadn't wanted to wade through the seas of nostalgia and spirits, hadn't wanted to face the traitors that had turned against his chere…A place shouldn't be allowed to hold so much pain, so many aching, vibrant memories.

He'd give everything he has to go back twenty-five years ago and do everything over. He'd fight harder for 'the dream', he'd be nicer to his teammates- not so sarcastic and secretive, he'd love Rogue the way she deserved.

He pulls into the circular drive and gets out. He gazes up at the door, he's surrounded by dozens of teenage mutants who didn't have to fight for equal rights, kids who rolled their eyes when Professor Summers started up on stories of Magneto, kids who had a hard time believing such a thing as Phoenix ever existed.

God he sounded old.

"Gumbo, never thought I'd see you here again." Logan descends the staircase and hugs the taller man warmly.

Remy hugs him back and then holds him at arms length, shaking his head in awe. "Y' really _don' _age, do y'?"

Logan changes the subject to something less painful. "We were on our way to your place for the dinner, but Cyke says he _has _to finish some paperwork first, and Jeannie's helping Rachel with some term paper that was due a week ago." The Canadian shakes his head but chuckles softly at the silliness of it all. Though he'll never admit it aloud, he doesn't know what he'd do without the daily dramas of the X-Mansion.

"What are you doing here, cajun? Shouldn't you be helping 'Ro with the party?"

"Oui, I jus' took a quick break to visit Rogue is all."

Logan nearly chokes on his soda (he doesn't drink much booze these days) and stares at the smiling Remy before him. There was a time when the mere mention of Rogue or Phoenix had sent Remy spiraling into a dangerous state. But now, he spoke of her so casually, so fondly…had Remy learned to appreciate Ororo? Had his heart finally healed?

Remy picks up on Logan's surprise, but makes no comment. "I'm gonna head on my way. I'll see y' later, oui?"

Logan nods stiffly, still startled, and pats him on the shoulder. "See you soon, Gumbo."

The two men separate and go their separate ways, but Remy turns and calls to Logan over his shoulder: "Couldn't help but notice de way y' eyes twinkled when y' mentioned Rachel. Like mother like daughter, _hein_?"

_SNIKT._

Remy only laughs and continues down the paved pathway to his destination.

He reaches the garden, and the smile slowly but surely slips from his mouth. Rogue's resting place resides mere feet in front of him, and Xavier had spared no cost on the granite piece.

The monument was a white angel with colorless, tragic eyes. Crushed emeralds were sprinkled in the ridges of her wings. She nearly reached Remy's height, her arms were outstretched imploringly, palms turned upwards. Attached to those open palms was an urn of the same color. It was box shaped and larger than most. He has every corner, every groove of it memorized.

He stares, his hands tremble by his sides, he feels faint.

"_Have you ever heard the legend of the Phoenix?"_

The butterfly of white light and flame lands on the top of the urn, and Remy takes a step forward.

"…_she will rise from the ashes; reborn."_

He lifts the lid.

"…_reborn-"_

He begins scooping up her ashes.

_We are like the living dead, sacrificing all we have for a frozen heart and a Soul On Fire. We are like the living dead, craving for deliverance, with a frozen heart and a Soul On Fire. Addicted to our divine despair, the venom of the cross we bear. The guilt will follow us to death. We are like the living dead, sacrificing all we have for a frozen heart and a Soul On Fire. We are like the living dead, craving for deliverance with a frozen heart and a Soul On Fire. ~Soul On Fire- HIM_

He begins scooping up her ashes.

The wind had scattered her remains far and wide, the sun steadily rises in the sky, but he ignores the ache of his muscles and the sweat on his brow. He needs her, some part of her, he needs to reassure himself that she was real, that she hadn't been a beautiful, heartrending dream.

He places the ashes gently in the plastic container Fury had retrieved for him. Every so often, he kisses a handful, and the scent of scorched earth and vanilla burns itself in his nostrils. Rogue's scent, _Her _scent, mingled together to create a painfully pleasant smell.

He senses a presence behind him, but does not bother to look, he knows it's Cyclops.

Scott doesn't say anything, does not wipe away his tears, just simply falls on his knees next to Gambit and helps him gather all that is left of the woman they loved.

The sight breaks Jean's heart. Guilt, sadness, pain, remorse. She doesn't know which one to feel, and so she feels them all. She tilts her head towards the blue sky and lets her eyes close. "You gave your life for me, Rogue. You _saved _me." She weeps into her hands, because no one has ever given her what Rogue has.

Wolverine wraps his arms around her from behind, and kisses her cheek. Sometimes in grief, what the person needed most were strong arms and silent support. He gives her both.

Emma Frost dusts off her white wardrobe, and heads towards the limo waiting to take her and the Hellfire Club back to headquarters.

She lets her hair fall forward, effectively hiding her tears. It hurts knowing she played a part in her friend's death, but at the same time, her knees tremble with sheer, utter relief. In a way, Bobby had been avenged, and no one else would ever have to die by the hand of Phoenix.

She stops halfway to the vehicle and looks to her side. Mystique was leaning over her fallen lover, and closed his eyelids without shedding a single tear drop.

"I'm sorry," she manages. "I know what it's like to lose the man you love."

Mystique's yellow eyes bore through her. Hard, hurting. "It's nothing compared to losing a daughter." And with that, she morphs into a raven and lifts into the air.

The X-men never see Mystique again, but they do hear about Irene Adler's grizzly murder in the papers a week later. Police reports said she was attacked by some kind of wild animal.

"We have a plane ready for you all, Charles." Nicolas Fury rests his head on the Professor's sunken shoulder. "Are you ready to take off?"

"In a few minutes," Xavier mumbles, his eyes distant and watery. "We just need a little while longer…" For once, the thought of returning to his estate does not comfort him. Because they will return with yet another missing family member, and he doesn't know if he can take charge, if he can comfort the others. He hurts so badly himself.

* * *

Jean waits until they get home before she approaches him. He'd felt her haunted eyes on him during the entire flight, and she finally corners him on the roof.

He sits on the ledge, the container pressed tight against his chest. His legs swing back and forth, back and forth.

She sits next to him, but does not speak at first. They sit in silence, letting the sun warm their skin, their insides remain cold.

"I don't know how to-"

"Y' let her down, Jeannie." His face remains a mask of stone, there is no spark in his eyes. "She never gave up on y', mais y' gave up on her. I may have ended it, mais you're de one dat killed her."

Her eyes widen, she hadn't expected to hear her own thoughts voiced aloud, and a strangled cry escapes her throat. Remy does not sympathize, instead, he stands and turns to leave.

"Remy, wait! Please wait!" She looked so sad, so disheveled. "I never wanted it to end like that, I wanted to help her, too…but Remy she would have killed us all!" She rests her hand on his shoulder. "Remy-"

He shrinks under her touch as if burned, and she falls to the ground in a crumpled, sobbing heap. He continues his retreat. Nothing more needed to be said, they both know _she _should have been the one in a plastic box.

**New York, 2034.**

For the first decade, she fought for control of her own mind. Phoenix had been greatly weakened by their death, but she was still a fierce opponent, and many a time Rogue was almost shoved to the black nothingness of her mind.

Of course, time in the astral plane was different than time in the living world. To her, ten years felt like ten hours at the most. All she knew how to do was survive, all she strived for was life.

In the final moments of battle, her psyches appeared from the darkness and rested their hands on her chest. Her power increased, she forced Phoenix closer to the edge.

She'd felt strong hands on her shoulders, warm, sweet breath against her ear: _"Touch her, chere."_

His strength flowed through her, she did as he said, and for the second time, Phoenix was absorbed deep into her soul.

Only this time, she would stay locked away for all eternity.

Rogue had felt tears in her eyes, she heard Phoenix tell her not to weep for her, that she was at peace now.

Rogue buried her face in Remy's chest, and then he too joined the other psyches in the process of eternally binding Phoenix. If only she'd been able to accomplish the feat when she'd been alive-

It was over so quickly. Phoenix's demise wasn't spectacular or epic, it was quiet and sad, like the last twinkle of a star seen from miles and miles away.

When she felt that her mind was empty and that she was alone, the nightmare that had plagued her months prior to her death came to pass.

She felt herself being dragged down a never-ending black hole, claws and fingers pinched her cruelly and tore away her flesh. For five years she remained in this Hell, though it only felt like a few hours.

When she escaped she slept. She lost all sense of thought, feeling, and emotion. Her mind was broken, shattered even, it needed the rejuvenation only a long slumber could bring. She dreamt, but of things she did not know. She recovered, she healed, and some twenty-five years after her death, it still felt like twenty-five _hours _to her, light blinded her, and she called for the one she knew would come.

"Remy-"

* * *

**Present Day.**

"Remy-"

His eyes snap open, the intensity of the sun makes him re-think the idea. He lifts his head and brings the pillow over his face. He breathes in deeply, it still smelled like her.

The knocking increases. "Remy it's time to get up, you need to eat something before the ceremony."

"I'm up, Ororo." His voice slurs. He'd drank so much the night before he would undoubtedly be drunk for the funeral.

Rogue's funeral.

The thought makes him colder, more numb. He turns the water as hot as it can get, he registers that it burns his skin but he can't truly feel it.

He throws on his suit sloppily, leaving his slacks wrinkled and his shirt untucked, and doesn't bother shaving. Rogue had always said she liked the feel of his stubble, anyway. He brushes his teeth, keeping his gaze downcast so he won't have to see himself in the mirror.

The funeral was a drunken, grieving blur.

Everything spins around him, he shivers from the rain and from the anguish. The minister's un-inspiring sermon goes in one ear and out the other. He feels supportive hands rest on his shoulder. He collapses at some point, mud smears across his cheek. The Professor speaks to him: _"…she will rise from the ashes; reborn." _And Remy wants to believe him, wants it more than he's ever wanted anything in his life. But he can't, so he doesn't. He hops on someone else's bike and rides until he runs out of gas somewhere in Lower Manhattan.

He abandons the motorcycle and stumbles into a nearby convenient store, and spends his only fifty dollar bill on bottles of rum.

Ororo will eventually find him four years from now, but until then, he will drink himself sick, and walk through life in a daze.

He takes the first burning gulp and finally, he's able to weep.

**New York, 2034.**

Seeing her again for the first time is...different._(1) _It isn't over-dramatic, or cheesy. It's heartfelt, sincere. He nearly collapses from the awe of seeing her again. She's perfect. Really and truly perfect.

He brushes the ash from her perfect, porcelain body. He lifts her easily and brings her to his chest. He kisses her perfect forehead, weightless, joyous tears fall from his eyes and land on her face.

She examines him carefully with her big, perfect green eyes, and then raises her hand to wipe away his tears.

_Don't cry. _Those perfect eyes say, _I'm here now, and I'll never ever leave you alone again._

He presses his nose against her perfect cheek and smiles. "I know, chere. I know."

He wraps her naked form in his jacket and brings her to the car. He can't stop watching her throughout the duration of the ride home, and every so often, she would look at him and grin her perfect grin, and he cries from the beauty of it. Because this is reality, she is really beside him, she's alive.

He doesn't know how or why, but details don't matter to him now. Because she's here, and his heart is so full his very pores leak all the ecstasy and love he feels. He can't contain himself, he feels as if he just started living again, his crimson pupils pulsate brighter than they ever have.

His chere has come back to him, and he feels himself falling in love all over again.

.

He lays her in the middle of the bed, and tucks the blankets tightly on each side of her, so she won't fall off in her sleep.

He kisses her cheeks again, and she sighs contentedly, her lids close. He stands there for countless minutes, and then goes downstairs. He's ready to face the guests, he's ready to make every moment with his children count, because he knows this will be his last night with them.

Throughout the entire dinner he hugs Caleb, Jeremy, and Marie close. He kept whispering in Marie's ear how much he loved her, how special she was to him, how beautiful she was.

She looks at him with her mother's eyes and asks: "Pere, are you going somewhere?"

His heart breaks, and he wraps his arm around her. He wants to lie, to tell her he'll only be gone for a few days, and then after that, they could be together forever. But he knows what it's like to hope year after year, waiting for someone to show up that never would. It wasn't until Tante found him that he had finally accepted his parents weren't coming back for him.

"Oui, p'tite. Y' pere has to go away."

Her eyes widen, tears brim over. "But why? Where are you going?"

He kneels so that he's eyelevel with her, and tugs her pig tail with a smile. "How about dis: someday, when y' become a big girl, I'll come back an' tell y' all my adventures, d'accord?"

More tears fill her eyes, but she nods. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

She throws her arms around his neck.

* * *

When the dinner ends, he searches for the Summers and finds them in the den. Jean was sitting on her husband's lap, and Scott was talking about something that made her throw her head back and laugh. She looked so much like her younger self when she laughed like that.

He clears his throat and steps in the room. They both stand quickly, Jean takes Scott's hand in hers.

"Gambit," Scott nods.

"Cyclops," He returns, and then laughs, because they were acting like they were stupid, young fools all over again. How many years were they going to act this way towards each other? Of course Remy knows it's mostly his fault. His hatred for the fearless leader had been fully unleashed after Rogue's death, and he winces now at how cruel he'd been. For years Scott had tried making amends, but eventually he'd given up and got just as bitter at Remy as Remy was at him.

Remy can't really blame him.

Jean smiles at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. He smiles back at her.

Dear, sweet Jean. Jean, who still looked just as beautiful as she had when she was twenty-five. Jean, who's crinkled smile could brighten a room, who's white and red hair set off her wise, turquoise eyes. Jean, who never stopped loving him, even though he hadn't muttered two words to her since that day on the roof, when she asked for his forgiveness and had been cruelly rejected.

Instead of speaking, Remy rushes farther into the room and embraces the both of them, letting tears roll down his cheeks. "We sure have been through a lot, de three of us, huh?" He feels Scott loosen and accept his hold, feels Jean's trembling arms wrap around his waist.

"Mais we're still here, still whole, still X-men."

"I-I truly do care about you, Remy," Scott stutters, his cheeks go red at the confession.

"I know, homme. I care about y' too, wit all my heart."

He sits with the couple, and the stories begin.

"Remember when you put those obnoxious rims on Charles' wheelchair and Scott gave you extra DR sessions for a month?"

"How could I ever forget? Couldn't wipe my own ass for a week I was so sore-"

Peals of laughter, joy, tears, clasping of hands. Sometime during the reminiscing, Hank joined the storytelling with his wife Tessa. Warren and Betsy arrived from the airport soon after.

They all congratulate Betsy on getting the cover of _Middle-aged Beauties._

"Ah the Legacy Virus…an incredible, terrible creation, one I hope I'll never have to see again.

"…of course I was angry Beast! Bloody hell, do you know how hard it is to get blue fur out of a brush?"

Logan joins them, and shrugs when they all turn to stare. "You all were loud enough for me to hear you from outside. Figured I oughta put my two cents in," he grumbles.

"Hey Scott, what was it like, how bad did it hurt?"

"How bad did _what _hurt?"

"Gettin' dat wooden board lodged in y' ass?"

Warren leans against his cane and guffaws.

"Shut the hell up, Remy. You too bird-boy."

Laughter.

"He's got a point, Scooter. You always were kinda stiff…"

Inevitably, at gatherings such as these, the stories become somber, heartfelt.

"Kitty had the most deceiving little face, didn't she?" There are tears in Henry's eyes. "Sweet as candy, but the girl could hack into the government's database in less than fifteen minutes. Believe me, she demonstrated numerous times." He shakes his head. "She just had so much _potential_…"

"I always knew Piotr fancied Kitty, but when I found his journal in the rec room I knew for sure-" She pauses. "They would have made a right jolly couple."

"…I thought we were goners for sure, but then Bobby came out of no where and froze the damn sentinel just before it blasted us!" Scott smiles wistfully. "That boy didn't give a damn about danger, just so long as he had us with him."

"Emma _was _kind of a bitch, mais she was real nice to look at, eh boys?" His grin fades, he turns somber. "I heard she passed away five years ago- from an overdose. No husband, no kids, no friends. Poor t'ing, she never did recover from Bobby's death." He knows what that is like all too well. He's just grateful Ororo got to him before he ended up like Emma.

Tears, watery grins, aching hearts. Remy looks around at them, his friends, his family. He loves them, loves them so fully that it hurts to breathe. He wants to take them all with him, he wants to make them young, he wants to re-live the past.

But at the same time, he's experiencing something new: acceptance. Acceptance of his current life and the decisions he's made.

He needs to find Ororo.

He stands from the group, and heads for the door. He can't help but take one last glance over his shoulder. He examines each and every one of them, comitting each of their faces to memory. He'll never forget them. How could he? These people loved him, they shaped him into the man he is today. Without the X-men...well, he doesn't even want to think about that.

He feels a tap on his shoulder when he enters the hallway, and turns to find a smiling Jean behind him.

"What's wrong, p'tite?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing's wrong, thanks to you."

He frowns in confusion. "Moi? What did I do?"

She rests her face on his chest. "You brought us all back together again, Remy. You healed the bond we all shared. You revived the X-men." She chuckles quietly. "You really don't give yourself enough credit, honey. You never have."

They hold each other for a moment, and then Jean pulls away, dabbing at her eyes. "You should go find 'Ro. She needs you."

He bends and kisses her on the lips. "I love y', Jean." It's strange, the words that had always been so hard for him to say were slipping from his mouth so easily. He loved this woman, hell, he even loved Scott! A dam of love has been released inside of him, and he wants to shower it on all of them.

"And I love you."

He walks away with a lightness in his chest.

"Remy?"

He turns around once more.

"When she gains her memories back, will you tell Rogue I dreamt of her every night? And that I say thanks?"

His mouth falls open, and she laughs at him. She taps her temple as if to say: I'm the world's most powerful telepath you idiot, remember?

They look into each other's eyes for just a little longer before Remy heads upstairs.

He opens the door to their bedroom. Ororo is sitting on their bed, the bed they'd shared for two decades. She holds Rogue in a pink blanket, and gently rocks her back and forth. She's singing some beautiful African lullaby she'd sung to her own children, she doesn't look up at his entrance.

"I'd always heard the legends," she murmurs, playing with the tuft of white and brown hair on Rogue's tiny head, "but I never truly believed until now."

Remy does not know what to say. "I don' know what to say, 'Ro."

She smiles her beautiful smile, and stands close to him. "You don't have to say anything, darling. This is fate, a miracle sent straight from the Goddess herself." She looks down and tickles the belle's tummy. "I can't stand in the way of fate, now can I? Besides, I've seen a vigor and spark from you I haven't seen in years! She's brought you back, Remy. She's changed you so much in only a day- I could never try and stop a love such as this."

Her selflessness and bravery break his heart. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for everyt'ing-" He reaches for her, and she rests her free hand on his cheek.

"It is I who should apologize. It was wrong of me to try and change you. I tried to make you love me, even though I knew your heart would always belong to Rogue. I took advantage of you in your most vulnerable state."

"Don' say dat!" He shakes her softly. "Y' saved my life! If it wasn't for y' I'd still be in dat shitty apartment, drinkin' myself to death. Maybe I wouldn't even be alive at all."

Tears fill Storm's eyes, and it begins to sprinkle outside. "Just promise, promise me you'll watch over our babies when I'm gone, even if it's from a distance. And our grandbabies, too. And-"

"And our great grandbabies, and dere babies…I'll make sure nothin' happens to our family, I promise y' dat." And his eyes burn so intensely that there is no room for doubt.

"And tell Rogue…that I'm sorry. I never appreciated her as I should have."

As if understanding her words, Rogue falls forward and leaves a big, slobbery smooch on the weather wielder's cheek.

Ororo laughs joyously and gives the child one last squeeze before handing her back to Remy.

As soon as she's back in Remy's arms she begins squealing and cooing. He kisses her chubby cheek.

He leans towards Storm. "I'll never forget y' Ororo Munroe. Not if I live to be a million years old." He wraps his free arm around her waist and kisses her with more passion than he'd shown throughout their entire marriage.

Ororo feels as though her legs will liquidate if he kept up what he was doing.

Rogue begins making grunting noises when she feels the kiss has gone on longer than is necessary, and the two adults separate, laughing.

"Y' always were de jealous type, weren't y', chere?"

She beams her toothless grin at him. "Uh! Uh!"

"You're stuck with him for the rest of time, Rogue. Are you sure you can handle his shenanigans?"

She blows a spit bubble and claps her hands excitedly.

Ororo smiles softly. "If there's anyone who can make him mind, it's you, dear."

She and Remy embrace once more before she goes downstairs to be with the X-men; her family.

When she leaves and Remy is left with his giggling bundle of joy, he brings her close to his chest and looks towards the ceiling. He is so happy, so heart achingly joyous.

_Thank you._

He has his heart back.

_We are like the living dead, sacrificing all we have for a frozen heart and a Soul On Fire. We are like the living dead, craving for deliverance with a frozen heart and a Soul On Fire. With a Soul On, Soul On, Soul On Fire. Soul On Fire. With a Soul On, Soul On, Soul On Fire. Soul On Fire. ~Soul On Fire- HIM _

* * *

Yes, Rogue is a baby, weird huh? It brings back the whole: Phoenix dying, then coming back reborn theme. I'm sure you're all wondering how that's going to work with Remy being a 52-year-old man, but don't worry, I got it covered ;)

**By the way: This is NOT the last chapter, so come back next time, kay?**

_(1)- Does this line look familiar? That's because it is. I wanted to use a similar opening from when he first met her, because I feel like it brings everything full circle. Meeting her for the first time was the beginning of something new, and so is finding her alive and well. Just thought I'd let y'all know what was running through my mind..._

**On to the reviews:**

**Lacey: **Your reaction deeefinately boosted my ego ;) Like you, I sort of stared at the screen when I finished typing and editing the whole thing, and I thought to myself: do I really want to do this? Of course, it was too late to go back and change it, cause you guys already knew the ending...but still, I thought about it- sadder than your great grandma? Oh no! That is pretty sad...but I can honestly say some of the romy stories other authors have posted effected me more than some serious stuff. We get so attached to these guys, almost like they're family or something! Mystique wasn't originally in the final draft, but then I added her and it took the chapter some place I wasn't expecting. I can't help but agree with you, because in a way, I too wanted Remy to die. It's not fair that one should have to live without the other, but he decided to be strong and live in her memory. You're right, it seemed like everyone got a shitty ending. Storm ended up with a man who doesn't love her, Remy lost Rogue, Emma had to kill her friend, Scott lost the woman he loved, Jean felt guilty because she was the one who should have died, and of course, poor Roguey got a bad deal all round.

**aiRo25: **:( It always gets worse before it gets better. Don't cry! Every cloud has a silver lining.

**PriestessKikyou: **Sorry for making you cry, but maybe next time you'll have happy tears ;)

**Payla: **Thank you darling. Quick updates! Me?

**AlpineWood: **I know what you mean. Looking over this chapter, it's hard to believe I wrote this depressing, tragic...thing! The battle scene was really hard and I'm not quite satisfied with it, but thank you for the support! The end did sort of have a tragic beauty to it.

**Cassie: **It was pretty cruel of me to do that to y'all...but I did give you 14 chapters to prepare yourselves, so...I gave you guys a happy one this time, didn't I?

**SevenIsMyLuckyNumber: **I know, I cried too :(

**A: **Thank you so much, and it ain't over yet!

**Xoxo: **There's 17 chapters, so make sure you come back ;)

Come back for the final chapter. How will Merr2 tie everything together...?


	17. Epilogue: Burn the Night Away

Burn the Night Away

_It's three in the morning and I'm still not sleeping cause I'm running your race. The mountains you've been climbing seem like they have steepened since I decided to pick up the pace. If the whole world told me I should disappear, could I fall right next to you? Just let me Burn the Night Away, oh baby, let me Burn the Night Away. I think you're not the simple things you say to me, that get me through the day. You keep me wide awake, you keep me wide awake. ~Burn the Night Away- There For Tomorrow_

**Massachusetts, 2052.**

Marie looks out over the balcony and sighs contentedly. They really had picked the perfect venue for the reception, it was beautiful and secluded and she knows she'll never forget this night.

"What are you thinking about," Nathan murmurs, his chin rests on the top of her head.

"I'm thinking about how happy I am, cher. Can you believe we're really married?"

He smiles warmly and presses his lips against her ear. "It's sort of like a dream, isn't it? It seems like only yesterday I was pulling your hair and putting frogs in your spaghetti." His expression is wistful, loving.

"That _was _yesterday," she deadpans.

He nips the sensitive flesh of her neck and pleasant shivers go down her spine. "You're going to pay for that on our honeymoon, baby."

She laughs and turns into his embrace. "Why not make me pay for it tonight?" She smirks seductively and wraps her arms around his neck. "You know how much I like doing it in hotel rooms. Besides, it sounds good to finally get this dress taken off-"

He silences her with his lips, and for timeless moments they just hold each other. "I might just have to do that, Mrs. Summers."

Their mouths connect again, and she feels it all the way down to her toes. Nate was a godsend, the man she'd been unknowingly dreaming of since she was a teenager. She'd gone through many a bad relationship, and out of no where, he appeared, and he saved her, just like when they were children. She'd been a fool in high school to ignore the feelings she'd had for him, but she has him now and forever, and that's all that mattered.

"Do you want to go back inside? Mom was trying to sneak the wine away from dad last time I checked."

She laughs heartily. "While I'd simply _love _watching the humor that I'm sure would ensue, I think I'll stay out here a little bit longer, just for some air."

His eyes sadden with understanding, his white hair gleams in the moonlight. "He would've been here to give you away if he could have, Marie. You know that."

Her throat becomes tight. "I know, cher. And uncle Logan was wonderful for doing the honors, it's just-"

"He's not your father, I know. No one will ever be able to replace your dad, baby. What you're feeling is normal."

"I'm over his disappearance, really I am, it just stings a little, ya know?"

They both turn to look as Nathan's mom comes out onto the porch. Her thick, white hair is frazzled and her turquoise eyes are blazing. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, honey, but I need help carrying your father out of here. The old fool is drunk, and he's creeping out the waitresses."

Nathan looks back at Marie with an apology in his eyes, but she only smiles and waves him off. "Go ahead. I'll be right here waiting for you."

He kisses her on the cheek and gives her a wink before going over to his distraught mother.

"Why didn't he like getting drunk when we were young? God he was always such a tight ass-"

Jean hangs back for a moment, and winks at her daughter-in-law. "I got rid of my knuckle head son so you two could have some privacy. He won't be distracted for long, so make it quick, okay honey?" She closes the balcony doors behind her.

There was really no hope of figuring Jean out sometimes, and Marie shakes her head in amusement, and descends the staircase leading from the balcony into the garden.

She stares into the pond, fighting back sadness. She wasn't the kind of woman to feel sorry for herself, but was it so wrong to ache for her father on her wedding day?

A rustling of leaves catches her attention, and her head snaps up. The figure of a man leaning against a tree sends alarms going off in her brain, and her hands curl into fists and begin to glow a bright fuchsia.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

The man steps forward away from the shadows, and the moon washes him in a romantic glow. "I see Jeannie's still sharp as a tack. Nothin' gets passed dat femme."

That accent...She quickly assesses the stranger. He was tall, and she could tell by the shape of the suit he wore that he was quite muscular, yet lean. His hair fell over his eyes, but she can still the shimmering crimson of his pupils.

This handsome man is her father, the young face before her cannot be much older than she is, but she's positive. She can feel it in the rapid beating of her heart, in the ache in her temple.

"P-pere?"

He propels himself in the air, clearing the pond, and lands before her gracefully. His grin is devilish, and his eyes go over her like a starving man looks at a feast. He wanted to drink in every detail. He'd watched her for years from afar, but she was so beautiful up close. His little girl was all grown up.

He moves as if to touch her cheek, but then lets his hands drop to his sides.

"Never thought one of mine would marry a Summers." He shakes his head and chuckles. "Bet Scott had a heart attack when y'all told 'em."

Marie does not speak. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open. She's in shock, because even though as a child she hadn't believed her father was dead, she never thought she'd be seeing him. But here he is, right in front of her. Younger, but still the same man.

"What happened to you?" She wants to end the small talk, there is betrayal in her eyes. "Why did you vanish into thin air? Why do you look like..." She sweeps her hand across his youthful body. "..._this_?"

He heaves a sigh and clasps the back of his neck. "I was afraid you'd ask dat-"

"Of course I asked it," she snaps. "You show up out of nowhere after eighteen years, you let me think you were dead. Goddess, you could have at least written me once in a while!"

She's becoming hysteric, and Remy rests his hands on her bare shoulders. "Calm down, p'tite. I know dis is hard for y', mais I wanted to see my girl get married, I wanted to tell y' dat I t'ink of y' and de boys every minute of every day-"

She shrugs off his hands and distances herself from the pleading man. This was too much for her, it hurts to badly. "All these years…what did you expect? Did you expect to be able to waltz in here and work your charm? Did you just expect me to forget all the hurt you caused me and welcome you with open arms?"

He smiles a sad smile, his hands slide in his pockets. "I didn't t'ink dis would be easy, I _knew _it wouldn't. But I did expect de love to win out, I thought dat maybe I could make y' understand why I did what I did-"

"Nothing you can say will erase the past. I cried every night for five years, my trust in men is so bad that I constantly hurt the man I love-" She hides her face in her hands and weeps. "You hurt me so bad, pere."

His arms go around her, and she does not pull away. Instead, she presses her face against his solid chest and breathes in his cologne. He still wore the same cheap fragrance, and he still smelled like the same aftershave and he still smoked the same cigarettes.

And she missed him so much she can no longer revel in her anger. "Je t'aime, pere."

"J'taime, aussi." His voice is raw, and with a start, she realizes her father is crying, too.

He kisses both of her cheeks, and then her forehead. She stares deep into his red-on-black eyes, and she smiles. He left her, he hurt her, but he had always loved her, of that she is sure. The ridiculous sums of money her mother would receive, unable to explain it's origins, the candies and other precious trinkets that she'd find under her pillow in the morning, the 2038 Mustang that had suddenly appeared at Caleb's dorm, the random presents left in Jeremy's room- it had all been him!

She'd suspected it then, but she _knows _it now.

"Y' maman, how is she?" He'd kept tabs on Ororo and the children of course, but he wants to know how she is mentally and emotionally, he wants to know if she's happy, if she hates him-

"She's doing great. She got remarried a few years ago, to a wonderful man named Bishop. They met at the gardening club."

"I bet she was de prettiest bride dere ever was," he murmurs warmly.

He wipes his eyes but does not take his free arm from around her shoulder. "Dat boy…he treat y' right?"

She laughs and rolls her eyes. "He's great, so don't start pulling the 'protective father' thing. I already get enough of that from uncle Logan…"

Remy purses his lips in thought. "Nathan- y' love him don't y'?"

Her expression softens. "With all my heart."

"What would y' do to stay with him?"

"Anything." And she means it.

He focuses on the moon, his voice lowers to a whisper. "Would y' give up your mortality? Would y' leave y' kids because he went to a place they couldn't follow?"

She understands what he's trying to say. "Pere, you're talking about that woman, aren't you? The one everyone talks about?"

He speaks around the throb in his throat. "Oui. She's de one. Fell in love wit dat girl de first second I seen dem eyes, even though I didn't know it at de time. Ever since den, I've been _addicted_, p'tite. I lost myself when I lost her."

Marie racks her brain, trying to remember the face of the woman who had enraptured her father so thoroughly. She thinks back to the mansion…back to the photo albums with her smiling plump lips and her blazing emerald eyes-

She remembers Christmas, when mother had taken her for a quick visit at the mansion. There'd been a photo on the mantle, she'd asked about it, and her mother had cried and said: "Rogue." She hadn't said anything else the rest of their visit. She recalls thinking the woman had been beautiful, too beautiful. She'd been indescribable, too gorgeous, too heart-breakingly exquisite for words! She'd been like a fallen angel, a woman crafted by the most talented hands in Heaven.

No wonder her father held on and never let go.

"I'm sorry, Marie," he says simply, but his voice is packed with so much emotion and sorrow it takes her breath away.

She wants to wipe away his tears and assure him that she loves him too much to hold a grudge. "I forgive you, pere." Her words are a glorious gift.

And just as he promised eighteen years ago, her pere tells her his adventures in the sky.

"Marie?"

She whips around and looks up at the balcony. Her husband's concerned face makes her panic.

"Were you…talking to someone?"

"Of course not," she lies smoothly with a chuckle. "I was singing, cher, that's all." She gives him a wink and blows him a saucy kiss. "I'll be in soon, Nate."

He knows her too well to believe what she tells him, and she knows it. But one of the great things about Nathan was his patience, and she knows he won't pester her until she's ready to tell him.

"That was-" Her father isn't behind her when she turns back around. It's just her, the moon, and the crickets.

"No-" She bunches her dress in both hands and bounds up the stairs and into the reception hall.

__

So don't look back, the hour glass is running empty. You've got me buried with your every move, your fine lines have me at a loss of memory. I'm right beside you in an empty room. If the whole world told me I should disappear, could I fall right next to you? Just let me Burn the Night Away, oh baby, let me Burn the Night Away. I think you're not the simple things you say to me, that get me through the day. And it's so hard to catch your feelings when you always run away. ~Burn the Night Away- There For Tomorrow

He finds her hovering, arms spread, in the parking lot where he'd left her, and takes the chance to appreciate the shine of her waist-length curls, the shape of her trim body in the flowing, silk dress she wore.

"Chere!" He calls up to her, but she does not respond.

He isn't alarmed, because this has happened often before, quite frequently actually. Though Phoenix was gone for good, Rogue had still absorbed her powers and abilities, and along with those came the burden of the all-knowing mind. She could hear the thoughts of every living thing in the universe, and sometimes she lost herself in the sea of voices.

But he'll always be here to reel her back onto land.

"Ohhhhhhhhh cheeerrrrrrriieeeeeeee!"

She whips around as if waking from a dream, and beams when she sees the figure of her lover. "Remy!" She lands on her bare feet, and throws her arms around his neck.

When she'd been a toddler, he'd allowed her to play around their ranch barefoot. He hasn't been able to convince her to wear shoes since.

"I missed y'," he whispers in her hair. He'd been gone a total of thirty minutes, but when two people were as connected in body, mind, and soul as he and Rogue, even that short separation was painful.

She kisses him on the lips, instantly noting the rawness beneath his eyes. He'd been crying. "How did it go, shuga?"

"Better den I could have ever imagined, chere. We talked, we hugged- she…she _forgave _me, Rogue!"

Seeing him happy makes her heart soar, and she laughs and weeps right along with him. "Oh, Remy." She holds his face in her smooth hands, "Ah'm so very happy for you! Ya deserved this, ya _earned _this."

Barely eighteen years had passed since Rogue's resurrection, and her body had not yet been fully restored to its twenty-two year old self. They got looks when they went out sometimes, because he looked at least twenty-five. He hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable with the negative attention, but she'd simply kissed him harder and said she didn't give a damn what they thought.

From then on, he hasn't cared, either. Besides, her eyes were much older than their years.

"It must have been so hard, tellin' her goodbye." The belle looks up at him, face full of aching sympathy. "Ah want to hear everythin'."

Remy opens his mind, and she enters him gently, handling the precious memories with care and love. She stops at a dark patch.

"Remy," she removes her fingers from his temples. "There's somethin' in your thoughts…did anythin' bad happen?"

He shudders, his eyes go distant. "Not until I got real close to her." He trembles in her embrace. "I could _feel _her dyin', slowly mais surely. I could sense dat she was agin', every second she sped closer and closer to death at a pace I'll never know again-"

He knows he's said the wrong thing by the crushing of her face. Rogue thought she'd done wrong by him, she regretted giving him part of her essence and making him immortal. Not because she didn't love him and want him by her side every waking moment, but because he had so many ties still left in the world. She'd made peace with the fact that she could not see the X-men, except from a distance, he had not.

When he'd snuck into his old home and planted gifts for his children, there had been hurt and remorse written all over her.

He wishes she could understand just how much he needs her.

"I know what y' thinkin', chere." The cajun pats her backside playfully. "An' stop it. Y' know bein' wit y' is like bein' in Heaven without dyin', an' I would make de same choice a million times."

She holds him tight.

"Y' hear me, girl? Where's dat pretty smile?"

She tilts her head and smiles for him, and his insides fill with warmth. "Dere we are. Dis is much better, non?"

He always knows how to stop her hurt. "What now?" she asks suddenly, good mood restored. "Where should we go next? Italy? Germany?" Rogue laughs in excitment and tugs him along eagerly.

"As long as I'm wit y', don' matter." His pulsating eyes make shivers go down her spine.

"Ah love ya, Remy."

"Love y' too, Roguey, for as long as I live." They both know he means forever.

.

They all stare at her heaving chest and glittering eyes.

"Marie?" Nathan approaches her slowly. "Is something the matter?"

She shakes her head and tears of joy pool beneath her eyes. "He's here! Mommy he's here!"

"Who, darling?"

"Dad! Dad came and spoke to me!"

Logan kisses his pregnant wife spontaneously and hops from his chair. "I told you I smelled that sonovabitch, Rachel! He's been keeping Rogue to himself all this time-" His grey eyes glitter eagerly.

All of the guests, young and old, make it outside just in time to see the Phoenix flap her massive, fiery wings and take off into the night sky.

"Oh my stars and garters..."

Warren drops his glass of champagne, and for once, Betsy is struck speechless.

"That young man..." Ororo murmurs, "-it really _is _Remy! Goddess be praised!"

"And look," Scott slurs and leans even more heavily on Jean for support, "She's carrying him in her chest, right where her heart should be."

All go silent.

Jean only smiles and pulls her husband close.

"Who's ready for some cake?"

* * *

**I can't believe it's done. My first completed, multi-chaptered story is done :( I really want to thank all of you for reading and especially for reviewing, you guy got me through with all of your feedback.**

**aiRo25 (the amazing author we all know and love, and may even obsess over, I know I do...) has graciously agreed to slap this fic into shape. I.e correcting grammar, spelling, and all that other stuff I completely suck at.**

**So come back some time, and enjoy the new-and-improved _Scorch._**

**And now, for the last time...**

**AlpineWood: **I did throw a pretty unexpected curve ball at you guys by making Rogue a baby, huh? Haha I hadn't even planned on doing that, but then I remembered she was _reborn_, so...I cried like a baby writing the last scene between the X-men, because I hate endings! I don't like saying good-bye, and to say good-bye to my family like that would break my heart. I'm glad you liked the butterfly-messenger, I was trying to think of a symbol for Rogue, and then I remembered at the end of chapter 15, it said her eyes fluttered like a butterfly. Thank you for all the reviews ;)

**SevenIsMyLuckyNumber: **Thanks sweetie. All your feedback and support has been greatly appreciated, and I hope to keep hearing from you.

**aiRo25: **I'll be looking forward to that PM ;) I want to thank you for all the constructive crit you've given me, it's really helped and I'm major excited and honored to have you beta for me. All your sweet compliments and encouragment has really pushed me, if it wasn't for the reviewers I don't know what I'd do!

**Cassie: **Your reviews always leave me smiling, and I TOLD you I'd make you guys shed happy tears at the end, not sad ones ;) Don't let your heart burst, I need you!

**UncommonSpirit: **A new reviewer! I'm so happy to hear Scorch connected with you. KNowing the readers are enjoying what I post makes it al worth it. Hope you liked the last chapter as much as the rest :)

**PriestessKikyou: **I feel bad for his children also, but unfortunately, not everyone could have a completely happy ending, and that's why I wanted to post this last chapter, to show that Remy never forgot about the kids of Storm, and so that he and his daughter could have some closure. Thanks for all your feedback, hope to hear from you more :)

**A: **Honestly, I can't believe it's over, either. This fic has been a part of my life for almost a year, and it's a little sad seeing it end. Thank you.

**It's been fun, y'all.**

**Lovingly,  
Merr2.**


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